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French Louie in Speculator (song)
Song: French Louie in Speculator
Music & Lyrics: AI
[Verse1]
Upon the wild hills and the dark lake's shore,
French Louie's legend echoes evermore.
A woodsman rugged, with a hunter's grace,
He found his freedom in that trackless space.
From distant Canada, a circus boy,
He sought the wild, a hermit's lonely joy.
Twice yearly, in the quiet winter's cold,
He'd bring his pelts, a story to be told.
[Chorus]
In Speculator's ground, his grave is found,
A patch of green where little coins are crowned.
A monument to one who knew the earth,
And found in wildness, his eternal worth.
[Verse2]
On Page Hill, overlooking Newton's Corners,
He’d call and howl, to tell the town's sojourners.
The panther's cry, the wolf's long, lonely call,
Would bring the children running from it all.
For Louie loved the young, with simple heart,
And never failed to play his friendly part.
He'd buy them sweets and toss them shiny dimes,
Then find the local pub for boozy times.
[Chorus]
In Speculator's ground, his grave is found,
A patch of green where little coins are crowned.
A monument to one who knew the earth,
And found in wildness, his eternal worth.
[Verse3]
The hermit tough, now rowdy in the town,
Would drink and roar until the sun went down.
His time with grownups short, and hard, and loud,
He'd rather watch the sunset in a cloud.
Then back to solitude, his camp, and trail,
Where granite cliffs and tall spruces never fail.
To West Canada Lake, his home so deep,
While Speculator and its people sleep.
[Chorus]
In Speculator's ground, his grave is found,
A patch of green where little coins are crowned.
A monument to one who knew the earth,
And found in wildness, his eternal worth.
[Verse4]
He valued stillness, and the wild's own law,
A man of instinct, free of human flaw.
He fell ill one winter and came back to town.
In February, to Speculator he went down.
Yet when he arrived, no animal cried he'd yell,
Instead, he gave his final breath inside Brooks Hotel.
The school was closed, for all the kids to see,
They laid green balsam for his memory.
[Chorus]
In Speculator's ground, his grave is found,
A patch of green where little coins are crowned.
A monument to one who knew the earth,
And found in wildness, his eternal worth.
In Speculator's ground, his grave is found,
A patch of green where little coins are crowned.
A monument to one who knew the earth,
And found in wildness, his eternal worth.
-
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