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• Artiste: Robert Earl Keen
• Titre: Twisted Laurel
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Just across the blue ridge, where the high meadows lay And the galax spreads through the new mown hay There"s a rusty iron bridge, cross a shady ravine Where the hard road ends and turns to clay With a suitcase in his hand there the lonesome boy stands Gazing at the river sliding by beneath his feet But the dark water springs from the black rocks and flows Out of sight where the twisted laurel grows Past the coal-tipple towns in the cold December rain Into Charleston runs the New River train Where the hillsides are brown, and the broad valley"s stained By a hundred thousand lives of work and pain In a tar-paper shack out of town across the track Stands an old used-up man trying to call something back But his old memories fade like the city in the haze And his days have flowed together like the rain And the dark water springs from the black rocks and flows Out of sight where the twisted laurel grows