Trina wears her wampam beads
|
She fills her drawing book with line
|
Sewing lace on widow's weeds
|
And filagree on leaf and vine
|
Vine and leaf are filagree
|
And her coat's a second-hand one
|
Sewn in antique luxury,
|
She is a lady of the canyon
|
|
Annie sits you down to eat
|
She always makes you welcome in
|
Cats and babies around her feet
|
And all are fat and none are thin
|
None are thin and all are fat
|
She may bake some brownies today
|
Saying you are welcome back
|
She is another canyon lady
|
|
Esterella, circus girl,
|
Comes wrapped in songs and gypsy shawls
|
Songs like tiny hammers hurled
|
At bevelled mirrors in empty halls
|
Empty halls and bevelled mirrors
|
Sailing seas and climbing banyans
|
Come out for a visit here
|
To be a lady of the canyon
|
|
Trina takes her paints and thread
|
And weaves a pattern all her own
|
Annie bakes her cakes and bread
|
And gathers flowers for her home
|
For her home she gathers flowers
|
And Esterella, dear companion
|
Colours up the sunshine hours
|
Pouring music down the canyon
|
|
Colouring the sunshine hours
|
They are the ladies of the canyon
|
|
-----------------
|
Ladies Of The Canyon
|
| Annie Lennox |
