Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Son


Interface


Niveau de difficulté


Accent



langue de l'interface

fr

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Politique de cookies   |   Soutien   |   FAQ
1
s'inscrire / se connecter
Lyrkit

faire un don

5$

Lyrkit

faire un don

10$

Lyrkit

faire un don

20$

Lyrkit

Et/Ou soutenez-moi sur les réseaux sociaux. réseaux:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Christy Moore

Lakes Of Pontchartrain

 

Lakes Of Pontchartrain

(album: The Time Has Come - 1983)


It was one fine March morning I bid New Orleans adieu
And I took the road to Jackson town, my fortune to renew
I cursed all foreign money, no credit could I gain
Which filled me heart with longing for the lakes of Ponchartrain

I stepped on board of a railroad car beneath the morning sun
I rode the rods till evening and I laid me down again
All strangers there no friends to me till a dark girl towards me came
And I fell in love with my Creole girl by the lakes of Ponchartrain

I said, "Me pretty Creole girl, me money here's no good
If it weren't for the alligators, I'd sleep out in the wood"
"You're welcome here, kind stranger, from such sad thoughts refrain
For me Mammy welcomes strangers by the lakes of Ponchartrain

She took me into her Mammy's house, and treated me right well
The hair upon her shoulders in jet black ringlets fell
To try and paint her beauty, I'm sure would be in vain
So handsome was my Creole girl by the lakes of Ponchartrain

I asked her if she'd marry me. She said that ne'er could be
For she had got a lover and he was far at sea
She said that she would wait for him and true she would remain
Till he'd return to his Creole girl on the lakes of Ponchartrain

Its fare thee well, me Creole girl, I never may see you more
I'll neer forget your kindness in the cottage by the shore
And at each social gathering, a flowing bowl I'll drain
And I'll drink a health to my Creole girl by the lakes of Ponchartrain

fait

Avez-vous ajouté tous les mots inconnus de cette chanson ?