Ghost Nights in Louisiana (Ночи призраков в Луизиане)

Born where the bayou bends, Rust on the truck, Songs on his hands. Played every bar from the Quarter to Rouge, Tip jar dreams and borrowed shoes. Spanish moss, cheap motel, Writin’ hooks in the Bible Belt. Mama said, “Boy, you got to try.” He chased that highway into the sky. But the ghosts keep callin’ him home, Back down that long, autumn road. From neon dust to cypress stone, He hears those ghost nights, ghost nights in Louisiana. Whispers in the sugarcane dark, Stories in the slow river sparks. He ran for fame, but he can’t outrun those Ghost nights, ghost nights in Louisiana. Oh. Nashville rooms, Cold bright lights, three-chord suits, Handshakes, smiles. They liked his drawl, tried to trim his tongue. Told him, “Son, make it clean, Make it young.” But he missed porch chairs, beer on ice, Fiddle bleedin’ through the pines. And every crowd and every cheer, He swore he heard home in his ear. ‘Cause the ghosts keep callin’ him home, Back down that long, autumn road. From neon dust to cypress stone, He hears those ghost nights, ghost nights in Louisiana. Whispers in the sugarcane dark, Stories in the slow river sparks. He ran for fame, but he can’t outrun those Ghost nights, ghost nights in Louisiana. Hey! Hey! Bonfire crackle by the levee edge, Old folks laughin’ ‘bout the walkin’ dead. He’s hummin’ low while the bass line sways, Shadow on the water callin’ his name. Midnight fog on a two-lane curve, He feels that pull in every nerve. “Boy, you ain’t lost, you just been gone.” He lets that haunted groove lead him on. Now the ghosts are singin’ along, Right in the place he belongs. From broken hearts to swamp green dawn, He rides these ghost nights, ghost nights in Louisiana. Whispers in the sugarcane dark, Stories in the slow river sparks. He left for fame, but he came back home To ghost nights, ghost nights in Louisiana.