Lyrics

RUE DE LA COMMUNE

The Saint Lawrence shone like a lava flow
The sun hung over it so bright and low
And the traffic rolled and rolled on the Rue de la Commune
Well the traffic rolled and rolled on the Rue de la Commune

It wasn’t Paris it wasn’t France
It was festival time and she just wanted a chance
A few hundred miles from Waynesboro and the tall Virginia pines
Just a few hundred miles from the tall Virginia pines

She left Weezie’s kitchen with the tips she’d saved
An old cigar box guitar that her grandfather made
Well she had a good voice she had a little style
She played on the street yeah she made people smile

Old gentle Montreal when the when the summer turns to fall
And the tips get light till she can hear her mamma call
Oh yeah she can hear her ma-mamma call

Paper blankets for her bed and a plastic pillow for her head
In a gully by the river she slept alone
While the traffic rolled and rolled on the Rue de la Commune

Well she held on for just abit too long
Till all the tourists, tippers and the buskers were gone
All that remained was a skeleton crew
The strung out junkies and the homeless few

With icy eyes people walked on passed
She just kept playing in her happy mask
Her tip box stayed empty and her feet stayed cold
But that old Saint Lawrence was still made of gold
And the traffic rolled and rolled on the Rue de la Commune