Nanci Griffith - Ghost In The Music lyrics
[Nanci Griffith - Ghost In The Music lyrics]
Down at the station the tracks are cold
The wheels of thunder, they roll no more
And the heart of America cries for the souls
Who won't be rollin' home
The 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 pride
Toil of our fathers with foreign hands
They laid the tracks and
They opened the plains
They fought the mountains and
They merged our seas they set America free
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
Foreign father American son
Father see what your son has done
He's torn up the mountains
And reshaped the plains
The dreams he dreams aren't the same
To 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 music
And 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
The wheels of thunder, they roll no more
And the heart of America cries for the souls
Who won't be rollin' home
The 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 pride
Toil of our fathers with foreign hands
They laid the tracks and
They opened the plains
They fought the mountains and
They merged our seas they set America free
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
Foreign father American son
Father see what your son has done
He's torn up the mountains
And reshaped the plains
The dreams he dreams aren't the same
To 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 music
And 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