Hills of Ithaca
Words by Woody Guthrie, Music by Marie Burns
Contact Publisher - Woody Guthrie Publications/BMG Chrysalis
Come up to your hills of Ithaca
Never seen prettier trees than Ithaca
Never heard canyons growl much louder
But heard lips talk lots plainer
Here where your parlor thoughts get padded
Into loud and narrowed claptraps
My Trip Hammer falls throws sprays
The Hills of Ithaca
The Hills of Ithaca
Never seen a living leaf grow greener
than in Ithaca
Sung last night
In Bailey's Hall here
Both of your northern college bosoms
Both of your northbound college risers
Prettier than any other pair so far
College fellows hanging round
In wet rainy coats, smoking pipes
Scraping, talking and jingling money coins
The Hills of Ithaca
The Hills of Ithaca
Never seen a living leaf grow greenr
than in Ithaca
Leaves I've seen some dry jump circles
But I never seen a living leaf grow greener than green leaves grow and jump around Ithaca
There's a richer and a stronger taste in all the roots and stalks, seeds and blades, sprouts and fruits than i found across California
I hear this agent in his window say Ithaca,
He waits a little while and he sings it again
His phone rings and he picks it up and he says in to it,
Ithaca Ithaca, Ithaca, this is me.
The Hills of Ithaca
The Hills of Ithaca
I never seen prettier trees, than in Ithaca
Never seen living leaf grow greener than in Ithaca
Soaky wet colors are all over everything called Ithaca
Greenest clumps of jump in things I've eyesighted
Since I've been out wangy down in around
© Copyright Woody Guthrie Publications, Inc. (BMI)
|
