There's an old dirt road, just off route nine
Fades into the lake, at the low water line
Sometimes I wander down that road alone
Remembering the town, that I once called home
I grew up in the valley, every neighbor a friend
Until the modern world started creeping in
One day came the lawyers, with cash in hand
They swore that our village would light up the land
The dusky waters move cold and slow
And the ghosts of a village still wander below
Homesteads of families and friends forever more
Haunting the valley below this sparkling shore
Surrounding the valley was a painted red line
Drawn by company men like marking a crime
A silent reminder that all inside it must go
Or be lost to the rising dead river's flow
Some folks too the money, started grinding gears
While the rest of us held out, twenty odd years
We watched our town, like a photograph fade
As the company came, to take it all away
They tore down the church, the schoolhouse burned
They dug up the graves, the wheels of progress turned
They got Dutchie's store, and Haven's pool hall
When the dozers rolled, it shattered us all
The dusky waters move cold and slow
And the ghosts of a village still wander below
Homesteads of families and friends forever more
Haunting the valley below this sparkling shore
Old May Savage stayed as long as she could
Her house on the hill towered over the flood
It rose up alone, in the dark of night
Its face on the water, the cold moonlight
I shake off the memories, on my lips a prayer
Thanks for the grace, and the beauty down there
And while the porch lights glow, all over the state
There's nothing but darkness, under the lake
The dusky waters move cold and slow
And the ghosts of a village still wander below
Homesteads of families and friends forever more
Haunting the valley below this sparkling shore
They haunt the valley below this sparkling shore
Writer(s): Richard Slaid Cleaves, Nicole St. Pierre
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