Tasty Tunes [Songs] - Originals

Lyrics:

I am the shaker,
You're my hammer in the frost.
Well won't you sing of rivers now,
The ones I'll never cross.
And if I sing along,
Will that river make me wise?
Try to take along your fellow man,
And see it through his eyes.

There's buck skin highway headed north,
The choice is east or west.
That lonely river town,
Where the bar-fly knows you best.
I'll never know,
Why we came to Wise River.
Where the snow can fall like cannonballs,
And that lonesome wind blows bitter.

Now if you're weary,
They don't mind you passing through.
Those seats are for the cowboys there,
They ain't for me or you.
It was the wrath of a man,
Near one-hundered years ago.
Can't you hear the call of miners wail,
In the hell they dug below.

Now one thing marks for reason,
And the other's on my mind.
That one thing lasts forever,
That's the darkness in their eyes.
I'll never know,
Why we came to Wise River.
The snow can fall like cannonballs,
And that lonesome wind blows bitter.

Something colder is growing me older than she.
She could share this, an heiress of copper and wheat.
If they forgive their folly in the fields,
We may find her there asleep.

Well they lost it all,
One shot at fortune's fame.
Only the rivers are left for digging boys,
And they'll fly to jump your claim.
It ain't the storms that blow,
That'll make you dread the road.
It's the distance that grows heavy now,
Beneath the weight of snow.

I'll always know,
Why we came to Wise River.
Where the snow can fall like cannonballs,
And that lonesome wind blows bitter.
I'll always know,
Why we came to Wise River.
Where the snow can fall like cannonballs,
And that lonesome wind blows bitter.

Where the snow can fall like cannonballs,
And that lonesome wind blows bitter.

Notes:

Wise River is a tributary to the Big Hole River in the Pioneer Mountains of southwestern Montana.