large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/10_songofthemouthorgan_service_hp_64kb_10
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/10_songofthemouthorgan_service_hp_64kb
English
2254
Let the jammy banjo voice the Younger Son, Who waits for his remittance to arrive; I represent the grimy, gritty one, Who sweats his bones to keep himself alive; Who's up against the real thing from his birth; Whose heritage is hard and bitter toil; I voice the weary, smeary ones of earth, The helots of the sea and of the soil. LET THE JAMMY BANJO VOICE THE YOUNGER SON WHO WAITS FOR HIS REMITTANCE TO ARRIVE I REPRESENT THE GRIMY GRITTY ONE WHO SWEATS HIS BONES TO KEEP HIMSELF ALIVE WHO'S UP AGAINST THE REAL THING FROM HIS BIRTH WHOSE HERITAGE IS HARD AND BITTER TOIL I VOICE THE WEARY SMEARY ONES OF EARTH THE HELLOTS OF THE SEA AND OF THE SOIL
are of orange light; The moon above consumptive-like and pale; Your supper cooked, your little stove aglow; You tired, but snug and happy as a child? Then 'twas "Turkey in the Straw" till your lips were nearly raw, And you hurled your bold defiance at the Wild. Do you recollect the flashing, lashing pain; The gulf of humid blackness overhead; The lightning making rapiers of the rain; The cattle-horns like candles of the dead You sitting on your bronco there alone, In your slicker, saddle-sore and sick with cold? Do you think the silent herd did not hear "The Mocking Bird", Or relish "Silver Threads among the Gold"? Do you recollect the wild Magellan coast; The head-winds and the icy, roaring seas; The nights you thought that everything was lost; The days you toiled in water to your knees; The frozen ratlines shrieking in the gale; The hissing steeps and gulfs of livid foam: When you cheered your messmates nine with "Ben Bolt" and "Clementine", And "Dixie Land" and "Seeing Nellie Home"?  THE CANYON ON THE TRAIL YOUR TENT A TINY SQUARE OF ORANGE LIGHT THE MOON ABOVE CONSUMPTIVE LIKE AND PALE YOUR SUPPER COOKED YOUR LITTLE STOVE AGLOW YOU TIRED BUT SNUG AND HAPPY AS A CHILD THEN TWAS TURKEY IN THE STRAW TO YOUR LIPS WERE NEARLY RAW AND YOU HURLED YOUR BOLD DEFIANCE AT THE WILD YOU RECOLLECT THE FLASHING LASHING PAIN THE GULF OF HUMID BLACKNESS OVERHEAD THE LIGHTNING MAKING RAPIERS OF THE RAIN THE CATTLE HORNS LIKE CANDLES OF THE DEAD YOU SITTING ON YOUR BRONCHO THERE ALONE IN YOUR SLICKER SADDLE SORE AND SICK WITH COLD DO YOU THINK THE SILENT HERD DID NOT HEAR THE MOCKING BIRD OR RELISH SILVER THREADS AMONG THE GOLD DO YOU RECOLLECT THE WILD MAGELLAN COAST THE HEAD WINDS AND THE ICY ROARING SEAS THE NIGHTS YOU THOUGHT THAT EVERYTHING WAS LOST THE DAYS YOU TOILED IN WATER TO YOUR KNEES THE FROZEN RATLINES SHRIEKING IN THE GALE THE HISSING STEEPS AND GULFS OF LIVID FOAM THEN YOU CHEERED YOUR MESSMATES NINE WITH BEN BOLT AND CLEMENTINE AND DIXIE LAND AND SEEING NELLIE HOME
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/10_songofthemouthorgan_service_hp_64kb
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download/librilight/large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/10_songofthemouthorgan_service_hp_64kb.flac