Nicole (pinkys_fic) wrote,
Nicole
pinkys_fic

Rise Up (Idina/Cara) PG

Let's start out slow, with... I think this is the only PG fic I've written that's going in here. This one's kind of sad. I promise after this to move on to the smut!!

The following is my transcription for Idina’s introduction to Rise Up (Cara’s Song). I got the audio from www.idinamenzel.net under the “media” section. This one’s from the Zipper concert, which is, to my knowledge, the only one out there. I don’t own the site or the clips, so thanks to the site and thanks to whoever recorded the concert. There is always a good possibility that I misheard something or mistyped something, so I’m sorry if that’s the case, but this is what I got.

(singing ends) And what that is about is, um… (applause) um, there’s a woman in the Bible, her name is Deborah, or in Hebrew, I guess you’d say Devorah. She’s one of five of the only women prophets in the Bible. And, she’s actually a triple threat; she was a prophet, a judge, and a general. And, her husband, I think you pronounce his name Barak, if anyone knows, you can correct me. Um, he was a general, too, and he was supposed to lead the armies of Israel together against the Canaanites, and he said he wouldn’t do it, unless she was by his side. And um, what the Hebrew means is, The rulers ceased in Israel until you, Devorah, arose, a mother, in Israel. Awake, awake Devorah. Awake, awake and sing a song. Blessed be God. (sings again). And then, what it made me think about, was um, when I was 13, I had my younger sister, look at my notes (?), my younger sister, she would have been 10, and I was the established, you know, singer, I guess, at 13. And um, she started auditioning for plays and solos in school, and people would um… (chokes up) sorry, I’m gonna cry, this is stupid. And um, people would tell her that, um… I’ll just cry and talk at the same time…So, people would tell her that, um, why don’t you find your own thing? That’s your sister’s thing, and you find your own thing. And, um, it’s taken a really long time for her to figure out what the fuck she wants to do with her life, which, for most people, it does. And, um, it wasn’t til she… she was like 26, and she had her first son, that’s my beautiful nephew, Avery, and, um, I over heard her, late at night, singing to him. And, um, I swear to god, I’m not lying, it was a beautifully sweet, hauntingly delicate, just gorgeous voice. And, I just felt like I had stolen something from her, you know? That she hadn’t nurtured this way to express herself. And, um, now she’s going through a tough time. She’s single and she has two little boys. (she says something here I can’t quite get). So, I thought that this… I wrote a song, last week (laughs). Because, I thought that that prayer about Devorah was more about her than it was anything.
The following lyrics were taken from www.idina-here.com, because I was too lazy to transcribe the song, too:

Rise up
Rise in the morning
Sing your song in all its glory
Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li...

Sing high
Take it to the sky
Sing like the sound if a butterfly could sing

Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li...

Rise up
Rise in the evening
Stand for the world that you believe in
La Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li...

Sing out
Sing really loud
Sing 'til you're breaking glass
Or you're breaking down
Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li

Sing to the world, my sister
Reveal the goddess in you
You have the strength
To blow us all away

Stand there in no one's shadow
You are the star - the afterglow
What should we all become
If you should lose your faith?

Rise up
Rise in the morning
Sing your song in all its glory
Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li...

Sing high
Sing to the sky
Sing like the sound if a butterfly could sing
Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li

I know you won't believe me
But I am humbled by thee
You've overtaken
No matter what they say

Me I'm like a winter tree
Brittle without her leaves
And when the mighty wind comes
I know it's you who'll shelter me

Rise up
Rise in the morning
Sing your song in all its glory
Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li

Sing high
Sing to the sky
Sing like the sound if a butterfly could sing
Li Li, Li Li, Li Li

Oh, Rise up!
Rise in the evening!
Stand for the world that you believe in!
Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li!
Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li!

Sing out!
Sing really loud!
Sing 'til you're breaking glass
Or you're breaking down!
Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li!
Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li!

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

[recitation of bits of Hebrew prayer]

Rise up!
Rise in the morning!
Sing your song in all its glory!
Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li!

Sing out!
Sing really loud!
Sing 'til you're breaking glass
Or you're breaking down! Ohhh!
Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li!
Li Li, Li Li, Li Li Li!

Sing high!
Sing to the sky!
Sing like the sound if a butterfly could sing!
Sing! AhhOhhh!

Rise up! Rise up! Rise!



She caught me, when she turned around. I was standing there, frozen in the doorway, crying. I felt guilty for listening, guilty for standing there quietly. And not just then, either, but every other time before. Whenever my parents told her to be quiet and let me sing, I just let them silence her. And I went on with my life, with my singing.
Cara got up from the floor, where she’d been kneeling next to Avery’s bed, and came to me, gently moving me aside so she could close the door.
“Deedee,” her voice still held that hauntingly delicate tone, and I flinched when she reached up to brush my tears away.
“I’m sorry,” was all I could choke out before I completely broke down. I slid down the wall and buried my head in my knees, sobbing. Cara’s arms were around me before I even knew I was on the floor.
“What’s the matter? What did you do?” she asked, concerned.
“I didn’t say anything,” I finally managed through my sobs.
“About what?” She cupped my chin in her palm, forcing me to meet her gaze.
“Singing.”
“Oh, God, Dee, is that what this is about?” I nodded. “I could never do what you do, sweetie.”
“But, you’re amazing,” I told her.
“Shush, I never had the passion that you did. It was your thing. It is your thing,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.
“I just…I don’t want you to end up fucked up like me,” I told her.
“You? Fucked up? No,” she joked. I laughed.
“Shut up, I’m serious. Even with my singing, I’ve still got issues. I just want you to be able to express yourself like that. It should never have been stopped on my account.”
“Idina, you were 13 years old. What were you going to do?”
“Be there for you, stand up for you, I don’t know.”
“You were there for me. Jesus, you practically forced me to function. And there was nothing else you could have done. I mean, I couldn’t have survived Thanksgiving without you.”
“Fucking amicable divorce,” I swore. Cara laughed.
“You kept dragging me to the bathroom so I wouldn’t cry at the table.”
“No, I kept dragging you to the bathroom so I wouldn’t cry at the table,” I corrected. “I still hate Thanksgiving.”
“You sang to me that night,” Cara reminded me.
“Oh, I remember. The sun’ll come out, tomorrow,” I sang, my voice hoarse from crying.
“Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there’ll be sun,” Cara finished.
“God, I was cliché.”
“Maybe, but I believed you. Come on,” she stood up and pulled me to my feet. She led me to my bedroom and made me lay down, crawling over me to lie on the other side.
“It’s nine o’clock, Cara,” I said, giggling.
“I know, let’s just lay here, OK?” I rolled over to face her.
“OK.” So we lay there, and as I started to drift off, I heard her humming softly. The sun’ll come out tomorrow…
Tags: idina/cara
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