On the Banks of the Frasure

2 weeks ago by @finniestone

Liner Notes

A wee song about the area of Kentucky my dad's family was from. He was the first generation in almost 200 years to be born outside of that region, and although I've never lived there for extended periods of time, this song is basically what I imagine life was like there, based on my dad's stories.

Also, I couldn't get the second E string on my mandolin to turn, so it is not in tune at all lol. Consider this an apology in advance, but I feel like it kinda adds to the vibe haha!

#folk #acoustic #singersongwriter #mandolin

Lyrics

On the banks of the Frasure,
Where the mulberry grows thick,
And the sassafras grows tall,
That's where I trace my line,
In the hills and the hollers,
Between old mining roads,
And moonshine stills.

A church, on every road,
To chase away the dark,
'Cause don't you know,
The sun comes up,
About 10, and is gone by 3.

On the banks of the Frasure,
Where the lean-tos lay to rest,
Many a man was shot dead,
Before dawn.
Where the ginseng grows wild,
And there's money to be made,
Both the wise and the fool,
Are drawn to dig.

A church, on every road,
To chase away the dark,
'Cause don't you know,
The sun comes up,
About 10, and is gone by 3.

The times, they got tough,
But that doesn't stop us livin'.
If the Devil comes a knockin',
He'd be surprised, we're still kickin'.

On the banks of the Frasure,
Where the mountain laurel grows,
You'll find many a different kind of person.
Pure, as winter snow,
Foul, as rotten tongue,
And sweet,
As the first girl you/we loved.

A church, on every road,
To chase away the dark,
'Cause don't you know,
The sun comes up,
About 10, and is gone by 3.

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