La Grande
Laura Gibson Lyrics

When the moon carves a trail down the pine-bearded hills
As the moonlight shines on the hills, I feel a sense of guidance, like it's showing me the way.

And a ghost-wind hollers to the early morn
The wind howls like a ghost, whispering secrets to the morning as it begins to awaken.

And the starlings return to the old sugar mill Stealing their corn from the grower's field
The birds return to the mill to find food, taking it from the farmers who worked hard to grow it.

Oh, I'll be no more
I won't be around much longer.

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
After a hard day's work, the only thing that gets us through is the music and dancing that lifts our spirits.

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
Even though the music may be sad or unfamiliar, I can't help but dance to it and let it move me.

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
I remember the sound of the train whistle and the smell of burning sage from my youth, and even though I'm getting older, I still feel young at heart.

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
As the train rolls by, we can hear the rhythmic tapping of its wheels, and we start to turn our own chatter into a form of music.

Oh, I'll be no more
I won't be around much longer.

Oh, I'll be no more
I won't be around much longer.