David Raleigh

People always ask me, “Of all the songs you’ve written or co-written, which one is your favorite?” It’s a tough one. Every song belongs to a specific moment—written for a reason, a person, an event… or sometimes just to meet a deadline or fill out a B-side. And yet, any of those circumstances can lead to that rare feeling of, “I love this song.”

This one holds a little bit of all of that.

It’s special because of where I was and who I wrote it with. It came out of a deeply personal album project, and both the lyric and the music still move me. I don’t perform it often, but when I do, it always connects—someone inevitably tells me it’s their favorite, or that it spoke directly to them. That’s the hope with every song.

But this one has another layer.

An artist I admire, who happened to live nearby, heard it and came to me with a vision for a video. We barely knew each other, but his passion was undeniable—I was immediately in. It became a true collaboration, though he led the charge: writing, storyboarding, directing, choosing locations, and ultimately shaping the final cut.

We shot it in our home, on my piano, in our neighborhood subway station, and on the A train—something of a rite of passage for any New York musician.

I think the video captures the song beautifully—the love, the loss, the resilience woven through it.

Directed and shot in NYC’s West Village by .
Written in Sydney, Australia by me and NLJ.

One of my favorites.

Video in bio.
I hope you enjoy it—comments welcome.

Mom,
Ten years ago this morning, you left me to be with the only true love I ever knew you to have.

I know you are free now—from pain, from loneliness—and at complete peace in His presence.

I love you, and I’m happy for you. Thank you for my life, for your prayers, and for the unconditional love you gave me so freely, every single day.

It’s very special that this anniversary falls on Easter. You loved this holiday. It encompassed everything you so firmly believed in.
(And I loved it because every year you’d buy me a new suit! 😊)

I miss you every day. And yes, I selfishly hope that you miss me too—but as one of your favorite songs says, “the things of earth will grow strangely dim.”

So continue to rest easy Mom, in the light of His glory and grace.

Mamie Matilda Raleigh
December 24, 1930 -
April 5, 2016

https://open.spotify.com/track/7GqlInpmFa0GeWfptq0WME?si=s7kjuYRbT5KIdqoCPC0sdw