Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song La Grande, artist - Laura Gibson. Date of issue: 07.10.2013
Song language: English
La Grande |
| When the moon carves a trail down the pine-bearded hills |
| And a ghost-wind hollers to the early morn |
| And the starlings return to the old sugar mill |
| Stealing their corn from the grower’s field |
| Oh, I’ll be no more |
| When we’ve covered our hands in the bone-white clay |
| And we’ve shaken the dust from every boot and spur |
| We have counted our days in planks and rails |
| We have kept our spirits in the dancing halls |
| Oh, I’ll be no more |
| When a cold corner stage in the back of the room |
| Holds a house band carrying an orphan tune |
| I would swing, I would sway, I would pull my hips |
| To the sad chorus playing on the overheads |
| Oh, I’ll be no more |
| Oh, I’ll be no more |
| Still to this day |
| I can hear the whistle blow |
| I can smell the sage burn |
| I may be as old and stubborn as a pine |
| But I am just as wild as the young |
| When a ribbon is curved round the blue-shadowed hills |
| And the hot steel is humming down the Union Line |
| Whip-thin, hickory-black, tap-tapping |
| Our sad-faced chatter into rhythm and rhyme |
| Oh, I’ll be no more |
| Oh, I’ll be no more |