REVISED VERSION
Tom Linne (rev. 1)
“Anyone seen Tom Linne around?”
The bartender asked the guys
Who were drinkin’ late at the local bar
With old dreams in their eyes.
“ Tom Linne?” asked one, “the guitar dude?”
The bartender nodded his head.
“Maybe he’s sick— sheddin’—shacked up—
“Or could be the guy is dead.”
The bartender wiped a glass and frowned,
“Nobody’s seen him around—
“He’s missed seven weeks of gigs—
“He must’ve left town.”
That same night, in a house on the Hill,
Tom lay in a woman’s arms;
Enchanted he’d been by her beauty, her voice,
Never guessing she meant him harm.
For she was a witch, and men her prey—
The handsome, the gifted, the brave—
To make them her captives was all her pleasure:
One touch—they were enslaved.
“No more guitar, Tom,” she commanded.
In thrall to her, he agreed.
“And never, never love,” she said,
"Any woman but me!”
For seven weeks Tom had been her slave,
He did whatever she said.
But this night he found a secret way out
Left her lying naked in bed.
Down at the bar, his band was playing;
He stepped right up to the mic:
“I’m back,” he said, to claps and cheers,
“It feels so friggin’
right.”
Those who heard Tom play that night
Heard sounds they’d never forget;
He made that guitar sing and rave,
His fingers gone wild on the frets.
Later, cleaning his bloody fingers,
He looked up to see
Janet, who’d been the love of his life;
“I’ve been crazed, Janet,” said he.
Graceful, calm, Janet stood
With the smile that had won his heart.
“I’ll do anything, dear Tom,” she said,
“To keep you free from harm.”
Beneath the moon, beneath an oak,
Tom loved Janet well;
“You’re the only one who can set me free—
“Here’s how to break the spell.”
The witch’s house—the barred gate opens—
It’s midnight on Hallowe’en;
And out of the gate a dozen men walk,
Then— a limousine
With the witch inside. Her black eyes proud:
See the men controlled by my spells!
Her shoulders bare, and half her breasts;
Her necklace of precious gems.
Janet is waiting, holding her breath;
Tom’s first in that spellbound line.
She grabs him, and pulls him out of his place;
“This man,” she says, “is mine!”
A scream from the car—then in her arms
Not Tom, but a poisonous snake—
Still she holds on tight—the snake is gone—
A bear appears in its place—
But still she clings to the man in the beast—
Now a lion, wild—
For Tom’s the only man she loves,
And the father of her child.
Once more he’s changed—to an iron bar,
Hotter than fire can be—
And she’s thrown the bar into the river:
And now her Tom is free.
Curse you, Tom! screams the witch,
The first to escape from me!
If I’d foreseen, I’d have cut off your hands,
And left you with her
to bleed!
ORIGINAL VERSION
Most of you probably know the original of this ballad, a 43 - stanza traditional ballad called "Tam Lin," one of the famous Child ballads from the Scottish borderlands, dated approximately mid-16th century. I’ve cut some of the material (43-stanzas? No way!) and updated the story (in accentual meter).
“shedding” is short for “woodshedding,” a musician’s term for isolating yourself to practice.
In English/Scottish folklore, pulling up roses has symbolic meaning, but I have not incorporated this in my version. You can find information here, if you’re interested:
https://tam-lin.org/
Tom Linne
"Whatever happened to Tom Linne?
You remember him— good-looking as sin—
Plays a mean guitar in a local band.
Nobody knows where he’s been."
"Not even Janet?" "Nope, I asked."
"Maybe he’s shedding. Or some lucky chance
Sent the band out on a national tour
Or— he’s found a new romance…"
————-
When he lay in her arms, it all felt right,
But there was always a price to be paid:
She’d forbidden his music, silenced his voice;
For seven months he’d seethed—but he stayed.
Then one night he cracked, stole out of her house,
A mansion high on the east side of town,
In stockinged feet he slipped through the gate,
Caught a bus headed down, down,
Down to the club where his band was playing,
And Janet, in blue, standing next to the bar;
Eyes wide, she stared, and he saw her heart beating;
“I’m no ghost,” he said, and touched her arm
With fingers that made her heart turn over.
“I’ve given my promise: mum as a stone
I must be—but it’s nothing to do with you, Janet—
Let’s find a place to be alone.”
Under a willow tree, down by the river,
Janet and Tom as close as could be;
“My love,” he whispered, and held her tighter,
The enchantment failing, he was nearly free.
Janet went home to find her father;
“Father, it’s time I was married,” she said.
“And Tom Linne is my chosen man.”
“
Him! I’d rather see you dead!”
Janet’s gone down to the willow tree
And she’s pulled up roses, one by one,
“Stop!” cried Tom Linne, springing up from the ground,
Don’t kill our child! Here’s what’s to be done…”
———————-
Just before midnight— the witch’s house—
The barred gate opens—it’s Hallowe’en—
And out of the gate a dozen men walk,
Dazed by the moon. Then, a limousine
With the witch inside. Her black eyes proud:
Look at the men controlled by my spells!
Her shoulders bare, and half her breasts,
She fondles her necklace of precious gems.
Janet is waiting, holding her breath;
Tom walks first in that spellbound line.
She grabs him and pulls him out of his place;
Holding him tight, she says, “This man is mine!”
A scream from the car—then in her arms
Not Tom, but a giant poisonous snake—
Still she holds on tight—the snake is gone—
A huge bear appearing in its place—
But still she clings to the man in the beast,
Though now he’s changed to a lion, wild,
For Tom Linne is all the man she loves,
And he is the father of her child.
Once more he’s changed—to an iron bar,
Hotter than any fire can be—
And she’s thrown the bar into the river—
And now her true love, Tom, is free.
A curse upon you, screams the witch,
Who has stolen this man of all men from me!
Had I only foreseen, I’d have put out his eyes,
And replaced them with wood from a willow tree!
Tom Linne
)
Linear Mode
