Текст песни Old Virginia Block (Devon Sproule) с переводом

If my ears hear a sigh of a shiny red violin

Clear by the Rivanna, down in the Blue Ridge

By the dog bags and trash, by the bottles and cans

And the dead beat brown grass

And the red dirt in the Blue Ridge

Then my home must be around another good old Virginia block

If my ears hear a note on the cello, so low, then a double stopping bow

From my headphones, in the Blue Ridge

Out walking at noon, appearing under the white of the daytime moon

Keeping my big blue balloon in my tight fist, in the Blue Ridge

Then my home must be around another good old Virginia block

If my ears hear the sound of a slate rock on the ground

Clicking the drops of the rain coming down, along a front walk, in the Blue

Ridge

The rim of dirt on the brim of a brow, the skin of sweat on the handle of a plow

Miles and miles of tobacco in the south, from a back road, in the Blue Ridge

Then my home must be around another good old Virginia block

I’ve got family in Canada, family in New York

I’ve got friends in every other place I’ve played

But I can’t keep from planting all my plans of family stuff

Down between the weeds in the red dirt clay

And where my ears hear a hundred bees riding that upwarding breeze

A veil and a bucket by a pair of oak trees

Just another blond kid, in the Blue Ridge

It’s all to make a pattern of love, to roost a lava field of white doves

With just a pitch fork and a pair of thick gloves

For your whole life, in the Blue Ridge

The pick up and go — the bent back and the grunt-chucked coal

The gleam of your white underclothes, in the back seat, in the Blue Ridge

The pile of bacon by a couple fried eggs, kiss marks and hearts on a picnic

table leg

The quartet fretting on up in my head, on my long walk, through the Blue Ridge

And my home comes up around another good old Virginia block

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