High Sierra Range - Richard Nardin

    Oh, you are a lucky one, I found you just like this
    Halfway froze and broken, California on your lip
    I am a mountain man, this mountain is my home
    From just below the timber, where the wolf and puma roam
    But you're three weeks late to the Truckee Pass
    So with me you must remain
    Cause no one tempts the frozen beast
    On the High Sierra Range.

    You're yet another plowboy, still wet behind the ear
    With your dimebook dream of a diggin' strike, that's all but disappeared
    And the hard tack and whiskey now, will get us through the snows
    When El Capitan is thick with ice, likewise the Gold Half Dome
    There's plenty of time to break your back
    And work your worthless claim
    When the bitter root breaks through the thaw
    On the High Sierra Range.

    And the ghosts along Midwestern plains
    Know you will not be denied
    Oh, but what have you left behind
    You fools of '49

    Hand me down my accordion, I'll play one true and slow
    It's the only thing I still have left since leaving old St. Joe
    I told my mother in parting, I'd make myself a name
    A kiss for luck in starting, that we might meet again
    And just like you I made my way
    With the blessee and insane
    Till my heart was stopped by the northern light
    On the High Sierra Range.

    © 1982 Richard C. Nardin


    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words