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Blackhawk
(Daniel Lanois)
Well, I work the double shift
In a bookstore on St. Clair
While he pushed the burning ingots
In Dofasco stinking air
Where the truth bites and stings
I remember just what we were
As the noon bell rings for
Blackhawk and the white winged dove.
Hold on to your aching heart
I'll wipe the liquor from your lips
A small town hero never dies
He fades a bit and then he slips
Down into the blast furnace
In the heat of the open hearth
And at the punch clock he remembers
Blackhawk and the white winged dove.
I remember your leather boots
Pointing up into the sky
We fell down to our knees
Over there where the grass grew high
Love hunters in the night
Our faces turned into the wind
Blackhawk where are you know
Blackhawk and the white winged dove
We were Blackhawk where are you know.
We were Blackhawk where are you know.
Do you still have the ring I gave you
On the banks of Lake Bear
Where I felt certain that I knew you
My cool and distant debonair
Now we drink at Liberty Station
Another cup of muscatel
Wrapped in the strong arms of the Union
Raisin' kids from raisin' hell...
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Raisin' kids from raisin' hell...
Wrapped in the strong arms of the Union
Another cup of muscatel
Now we drink at Liberty Station
My cool and distant debonair
Where I felt certain that I knew you
On the banks of Lake Bear
Do you still have the ring I gave you
We were Blackhawk where are you know.
We were Blackhawk where are you know.
Blackhawk and the white winged dove
Blackhawk where are you know
Our faces turned into the wind
Love hunters in the night
Over there where the grass grew high
We fell down to our knees
Pointing up into the sky
I remember your leather boots
Blackhawk and the white winged dove.
And at the punch clock he remembers
In the heat of the open hearth
Down into the blast furnace
He fades a bit and then he slips
A small town hero never dies
I'll wipe the liquor from your lips
Hold on to your aching heart
Blackhawk and the white winged dove.
As the noon bell rings for
I remember just what we were
Where the truth bites and stings
In Dofasco stinking air
While he pushed the burning ingots
In a bookstore on St. Clair
Well, I work the double shift
(Daniel Lanois)
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