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"BANKS OF THE PONCHARTRAIN," by Nanci Griffith
[Capo 3]
I'm going back where my garden blooms all year
Where the winter time speaks softly in the falling rain
I'm going back to my green-eyed lover there
We will dance along the banks of old Lake Ponchartrain
Chorus:
Take me to the station
I am late to catch my south-bound train
Oh I'm gonna call my cousin Libby
She will be waitin' by the tracks when I roll in
(And) I'm gonna roll across America
Just to stand beside my Ponchartrain again
Oh' I've grown pale beneath the streets of Montreal Where the voices ring like bells in French-Canadian And the rivers stand imprisoned till the thaws I am alone at night and dream of my own Pontchartrain
These old rails shake like thunder through the night Soon I'll have my green-eyed lover's arms to comfort me Oh, I can see my cousin Libby by his side Her hair will flow in waves like on Lake Pontchartrain
I'm going back where my garden blooms all year Where the wintertime speaks softly in the fallin' rain I'm goin' back to my green-eyed lover there And we will dance along the banks of old Lake Pontchartrain Yes we will dance along the banks of old Lake Pontchartrain We will dance along the banks of old Lake Pontchartrain And here comes the train . . .
