Woodchuck And Crow ~ Year Of First's

04:45
Pamme Swan
2011-11-28
Pamme Swan

Story

This is total fiction inspired by an old snap shot given to me sometime ago. The shot has been sitting in a picture frame holder at my computer for the last 4 years or more begging for it's story told.

Steven Skollar On Mandolin

Lyrics

Woodchuck And Crow

Words and Music 

Pamme Swan

 

He was born on a cold March morn

 His momma died the very same day

  Raised by a frenchie lumberjack

   In a mists of a mountains haze

   No sound came from his tiny lips

    When crow flew in from the sky

     Woodchuck crawled up from his dirty dirt de

And sang an  indian lullaby

 

  What do you know

 Wood chuck and crow

Together you are fine company 

How do you know

Wood chuck and crow

 How best friends come to be

 

Winters in the north white woods

Come to be about three years long

It's a hard cold spell with out a tune

From a mother or a spring bird song

Warmed by a stove of burning oak

The boy with his animals grew

They feasted on moose steak berries and buns

And drank cups of hazel dew

 

What do you know 

Wood chuck and crow

Together you are fine company

How do you know 

Wood chuck and crow

How best friends come to be

 

Winter finally melted away

When frenchie hung up his axe

And he moved them  from his old log home

To plant honey wheat and flax

In a green summer village square

The boy was left with his pets

And the town's folk pursed their holy lips

And found the boy hard to forget

 

What do you know

Wood chuck and crow

Together you are fine company

How do you know 

Wood chuck and crow

How best friends come to be

 

On a timothy hill out side of town

Lived a man with a picture box

With lights and magic mirrors inside

He got the town's first black and white shots

Shots of spinster ladies

And  sunsets all aglow

And the boy beside a great clay urn

with his woodchuck and crow.

 

What do you know

Wood chuck and crow

Together you are fine company

How do you know 

Wood chuck and crow

How best friends come to be

 

Legends linger soft and sweet

They were gone fore the first snow fell

A great black bear carried them back

To the woods he loved so well

And the man with the magic picture box

Has the only shot I know

Of the smiling boy and the company

Of his wood chuck and crow

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