Текст песни A Toast to the Woman in the Holler (Chuck Brodsky) с переводом

Catherine’s boyfriend played saxophone — Catherine wanted a flute

There was one in the window of the music store — that happened to be a real

beaut

But Mummy couldn’t afford it — this much Catherine knew

Still, she stood there a few minutes dreaming — knowing it wouldn’t come true

Christmas time was coming — and Catherine had the blues

Her Mummy asked her what she wanted — Catherine didn’t tell the truth

She knew there wasn’t the money — not even for one to rent

The only thing Catherine really wanted — was to play an instrument

Catherine cried for a month in her bedroom — when she had to quit the school

band

The woman who lived in the holler — heard about this secondhand

And the goodness gathered within her — and fluttered like butterflies

She in a vision released them — and she watched them take to the skies

And on a very cold night in December — maybe the coldest night of the year

The woman who lives in the holler — cried a few secret tears

For the last few moments of glory — and the glories that had been before

And the times it had been there to rescue her — she set her flute down by the

door

People whisper about her — the locals say she’s a witch

Though she’d be the first to come help them — if they ever got stuck in a ditch

The candles she lights at her altar — they burn as a gesture of love

The kind they talk about in the churches — yet they know so little of

It was one day just after Christmas — and Catherine wore her new hat

Her mom brought her out to the holler — the woman was there with her cats

Catherine had no idea — but someday maybe she would

That what she would soon be receiving — was being given for a greater good

So here’s to the future of music. — and here’s to the power of song

And here’s a toast to the woman in the holler — for passing these things along

The case was covered with stickers — and words. that this woman had scrawled

From the magic places she’d been to — trinkets from her own Mardi Gras

And it all meant nothing to Catherine — it wasn’t her story to tell

She’ll have her own words and stickers — should she ever fall under the spell

So it’s Catherine’s turn now to hold her — here’s hoping she’ll learn how to

play

Maybe she’ll drop by the holler — to visit this woman some day

Maybe she’ll come with her boyfriend — the one who plays saxophone

Maybe they’ll play for the woman — a few things they made up on their own

So here’s to the sweet gift of music — here’s to the power of song

And a toast to the woman in the holler — for passing these things along

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