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The Cold Acre Lyrics
There's a place I've been told, and when I grow old I may go there,
I've been told that my family's bones may lie under the snow there,
And with my little bag, and with my little dog,
Who sleeps on my chest when he can't find a hole in a log,
And when I go, my dog will know to leave his old fellow and find a new pillow, far from the chill of the cold acre.
Now there's a Hillydale here and a Lilydale there Where there's joy in the living, in voices that ring in the air.
I'd stay there but sooner or later I'd have to go, where I don't know,
But when a dog knows it's on him he doesn't ask why he just goes,
And when I go my bones will know, to pick up and follow the wagon that rolls on the cold acre.
My heart is a cold acre, in my chest is a cold acre,
I don't grow any good anymore though I've seeded my soul with all kinds of love, that it aches so...
Though I wake from them mouthing they leave me not able to talk,
These dreams are not nightmares but realms I've been choosing to walk,
With my little bag, and with my little dog,
Who rests on my stomach and barks at the oncoming fog,
O but when I go, with my lot in tow,
Like a vampire carry my piece of the earth to the place of my death from the plots of my birth.
My heart is a cold acre, in my chest is a cold acre,
I know any good anymore from the bad except there's one that you have and one that you had,
O grow, grow, grow, grow, grow,
And plant me in the only place I know,
That's the Cold Acre.
I've been told that my family's bones may lie under the snow there,
And with my little bag, and with my little dog,
Who sleeps on my chest when he can't find a hole in a log,
And when I go, my dog will know to leave his old fellow and find a new pillow, far from the chill of the cold acre.
But when a dog knows it's on him he doesn't ask why he just goes,
And when I go my bones will know, to pick up and follow the wagon that rolls on the cold acre.
I don't grow any good anymore though I've seeded my soul with all kinds of love, that it aches so...
These dreams are not nightmares but realms I've been choosing to walk,
With my little bag, and with my little dog,
Who rests on my stomach and barks at the oncoming fog,
O but when I go, with my lot in tow,
Like a vampire carry my piece of the earth to the place of my death from the plots of my birth.
I know any good anymore from the bad except there's one that you have and one that you had,
O grow, grow, grow, grow, grow,
And plant me in the only place I know,
That's the Cold Acre.
Song Info
Submitted by
snootfrack On Jul 23, 2007
More Augie March
One Crowded Hour
There Is No Such Place
Asleep in Perfection
Pennywhistle
Owen's Lament
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This song is perhaps one of my favorite Augie March songs and speaks to me on multiple levels.
First I feel that they are speaking about the place that we all must go at one point or another that being our deaths (since we no longer grow and must all go at one point).
However I also feel that the song addresses the process of aging and loss of not only people (illustrated by the dog) but also past regrets and mistakes. This is perhaps best emphasized by the line: "Though I wake from them mouthing they leave me not able to talk, These dreams are not nightmares but realms I've been choosing to walk,"
In which lost of past thing, loves and choices come back to you but you know that they can't be changed anymore.