Stockings Lace by Zoli Althea Browne Lyrics
I never was one for silk stockings and lace
Or the white glove wizards throwing prayers in my face
From the back of the church I’d sing the blue during mass
And when the body was offered, I’d say thanks, but I’ll pass
Old St. Louis Cathedral wages war over sin
Still surrounded by angels that she’ll never let in
They call us sin city behind Mardi Gras masques
While they’re stealing our daughters like they did in the past
(Chorus)
Chantez mes cherries, venez me voir avant de partir
Flanez sous les lumieres de la nuit
Au bord les canals elles font le java d’une spectale Leur beaute et l’amour s’ont non pareils
Sweet peach tree blossoms kiss cobblestone streets
There’s a full moon playing a duet with the heat
I lay by my window as I turn out the light
Feel his hand on my shoulder like a blade of a knife
Well, I am a seventh daughter of a sharecropper’s son
The sixth generation since our freedom was won
With the bayou behind me ‘came to sing with the man
But ended up with his children and this broom in my hand
(Chorus)
Sing to me Cherie, come and see me before you leave
Saunter under the street lamps of night
All along the canals, living life’s true spectacle
Their beauty and their love unparalleled
Or the white glove wizards throwing prayers in my face
From the back of the church I’d sing the blue during mass
And when the body was offered, I’d say thanks, but I’ll pass
Old St. Louis Cathedral wages war over sin
Still surrounded by angels that she’ll never let in
They call us sin city behind Mardi Gras masques
While they’re stealing our daughters like they did in the past
(Chorus)
Chantez mes cherries, venez me voir avant de partir
Flanez sous les lumieres de la nuit
Au bord les canals elles font le java d’une spectale Leur beaute et l’amour s’ont non pareils
Sweet peach tree blossoms kiss cobblestone streets
There’s a full moon playing a duet with the heat
I lay by my window as I turn out the light
Feel his hand on my shoulder like a blade of a knife
Well, I am a seventh daughter of a sharecropper’s son
The sixth generation since our freedom was won
With the bayou behind me ‘came to sing with the man
But ended up with his children and this broom in my hand
(Chorus)
Sing to me Cherie, come and see me before you leave
Saunter under the street lamps of night
All along the canals, living life’s true spectacle
Their beauty and their love unparalleled