Gabriel And Me
Joan Baez · Blessed Are [1994]
The grey quiet horse wears the reins of dawn,
And nobody knows what mountain he's from.
In his mouth he carries the golden key,
And nobody sees him but Gabriel and me.
Gabriel and me.
His nose is silver and his mane is white,
His eyes are black and starry like night.
So softly he splashes his hoofs in the sea,
That nobody hears him but Gabriel and me.
Gabriel and me.
He comes in the morning when the air is still,
He races the sun and he always will.
We raise up the window and call through the trees,
Oh we'd love to fly with you, Gabriel and me.
Gabriel and me.
For your back is wingless and there's room for two,
We'll mount from a tree and ride straight on through.
But I guess you're wiser than I thought you'd be,
For you never will listen to Gabriel and me.
Gabriel and me.
For you know that one day we'll forget to wake,
Call it destiny, call it fate.
You'll nuzzle us softly and so silently,
We'll ride in the morning, Gabriel and me,
With the golden key.
Gabriel and me,
Forever to the sea.
© 1970, 1971 Chandos Music (ASCAP)
Gabriel And Me
Joan Baez's rendition of "Gabriel And Me" on the 1994 album Blessed Are captures the enduring power of her folk storytelling. The song, originally written by John Prine, serves as a poignant meditation on faith, mortality, and the quiet dignity of the human spirit. Baez's delivery is characteristically clear and emotive, allowing the narrative to unfold with gentle authority. This recording highlights her ability to interpret contemporary songwriting through a timeless lens, bridging the gap between traditional folk sensibilities and modern lyrical depth. As part of her extensive discography, the track reinforces her status as a vital interpreter of American roots music, offering listeners a moment of reflection on the intersection of the divine and the everyday.