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Текст песни Nanci Griffith - Ghost In The Music

Nanci Griffith - Ghost In The Music слова песни

Down at the station the tracks are coldthe wheels of thunder, they roll no moreand the heart of America cries for the soulswho won`t be rollin` homeThe dragon weeps with empty eyes,the whistle sighs no more in the night ...It rests in the lines, like a ghost in the music,the soul of America`s prideToil of our fathers with foreign hands,they laid the tracks and they opened the plainsthey fought the mountains and they merged our seasthey set America freeTell me,...Where is the blaze of the hobo`s caldron?The refuge for these poor and these fallen?It rests in the lines, like a ghost in the music,the soul of America`s prideForeign father ...American son, father see what your son has doneHe`s torn up the mountainsand reshaped the plainsthe dreams he dreams aren`t the sameTo the fallen ones who may still be askin,"Who`d take time to stir these ashes,Who`ll hear the lines of a ghost in the musicand kindle America`s pride?"Tell me,... Where is the blaze of the hobo`s caldron?The refuge for these poor and these fallen?It rests in the lines, like a ghost in the music,the soul of America`s pride.

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