歌词
In the hills of Georgia, where the old pines sigh,
Lives a blinded old man, beneath the endless sky.
Once a virtuoso with a violin in hand,
War took his sight, left him to stand.
With one hand left, he picked up the steel,
Crafted melodies that the mountains could feel.
His slide guitar sang, like a river's flow,
Through the valleys and peaks, where the wild winds blow.
(Chorus)
Oh, the sounds that echoed, from his lonesome abode,
Mysteries in music, down the mountain road.
People came from miles, just to hear him play,
In the heart of the mountains, where the shadows sway.
(Chorus)
Oh, the sounds that echoed, from his lonesome abode,
Mysteries in music, down the mountain road.
People came from miles, just to hear him play,
In the heart of the mountains, where the shadows sway.
(Verse 2)
One day a maiden, with eyes bright and fair,
Found the old man, in his silent lair.
She brought warmth to his solitude, friendship in her eyes,
But shadows lurked nearby, in the depths where evil lies.
[harmonica Playing]
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One day a maiden, with eyes bright and long silky hair,
Found the old man, alone in his silent lair.
She brought warmth to his solitude and friendship in her eyes,
But evil shadows lurked in the woods nearby, a hateful set of brothers and that ain't no lie.
The Baxster brothers, with venom in their veins,
Followed her steps, through the whispering lanes.
In the cloak of darkness, they struck their cruel blow,
Left the old man battered, in the pale moon's glow.
[harmonica Playing]
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(Chorus)
Yet still the echoes lingered, in the mountain air,
Carrying tales of sorrow, of the old man's despair.
[harmonica playing]
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And when the Backster boys came, seeking to do her harm,
They heard a haunting screech, a soulful song.
[harmonica Playing]
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(Bridge)
Some say it was vengeance, from the old man's hand,
Others say it was magic, from the mountain land.
But whatever the truth, the brothers were gone,
Lost to the night, to the old man's song.
[harmonica playing]
(Verse 3)
Now in the quiet of the mountains, where the moonlight gleams,
The old man plays on, in the realm of dreams.
His slide guitar weaves, through the night so still,
A testament to courage, to the strength of will.
[bass walk]
[harmonica playing]
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So listen to the echoes, in the mountain breeze,
Whispers of a tale, that brings you to your knees.
For in the heart of darkness, where the shadows creep,
The old man's music lingers, in the soul so deep.
[outro]
[harmonica, slide guitar playing]
