| Song | Mama's Opry |
| Artist | Iris DeMent |
| Album | Infamous Angel |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Dement | |
| She grew up plain and simple in a farming town | |
| Her daddy played the fiddle and used to do the calling when they had hoe-downs | |
| She says the neighbors would come and they'd move all my grandma's furniture 'round | |
| And there'd be twenty or more there on the old wooden floor dancin' to a country sound | |
| The Carters and Jimmy Rodgers played her favorite songs | |
| And on Saturday nights there was a radio show and she would sing along | |
| And I'll never forget her face when she revealed to me | |
| That she'd dreamed about singing at The Grand Ol' Opry | |
| Her eyes, oh, how they sparkled when she sang those songs | |
| While she was hanging the clothes on the line, I was a kid just a-hummin' along | |
| Well, I'd be playing in the grass, to her, what might've seemed, obliviously | |
| But there ain't no doubt about it, she sure made her mark on me | |
| And she played old gospel records on the phonograph | |
| She turned them up loud and we'd sing along, but those days have passed | |
| Just now, that I am older, it occurs to me | |
| That I was singing in the grandest opry | |
| And we sang sweet rose of Sharon, abide with me | |
| 'Til I ride the gospel ship to heaven's jubilee | |
| And in that great triumphant morning my soul will be free | |
| And my burdens will be lifted when my savior's face I see | |
| So I don't want to get adjusted to this world below | |
| But I know he'll pilot me 'til it comes time to go | |
| Oh, nothing on this earth is half as dear to me | |
| As the sound of my mama's opry | |
| And we sang sweet rose of Sharon, abide with me | |
| 'Til I ride the gospel ship to heaven's jubilee | |
| And in that great triumphant morning my soul will be free | |
| And my burdens will be lifted when my savior's face I see | |
| So I don't want to get adjusted to this world below | |
| But I know he'll pilot me 'til it comes time to go | |
| Oh, nothing on this earth is half as dear to me | |
| As the sound of my mama's opry |
| zuo ci : Dement | |
| She grew up plain and simple in a farming town | |
| Her daddy played the fiddle and used to do the calling when they had hoedowns | |
| She says the neighbors would come and they' d move all my grandma' s furniture ' round | |
| And there' d be twenty or more there on the old wooden floor dancin' to a country sound | |
| The Carters and Jimmy Rodgers played her favorite songs | |
| And on Saturday nights there was a radio show and she would sing along | |
| And I' ll never forget her face when she revealed to me | |
| That she' d dreamed about singing at The Grand Ol' Opry | |
| Her eyes, oh, how they sparkled when she sang those songs | |
| While she was hanging the clothes on the line, I was a kid just ahummin' along | |
| Well, I' d be playing in the grass, to her, what might' ve seemed, obliviously | |
| But there ain' t no doubt about it, she sure made her mark on me | |
| And she played old gospel records on the phonograph | |
| She turned them up loud and we' d sing along, but those days have passed | |
| Just now, that I am older, it occurs to me | |
| That I was singing in the grandest opry | |
| And we sang sweet rose of Sharon, abide with me | |
| ' Til I ride the gospel ship to heaven' s jubilee | |
| And in that great triumphant morning my soul will be free | |
| And my burdens will be lifted when my savior' s face I see | |
| So I don' t want to get adjusted to this world below | |
| But I know he' ll pilot me ' til it comes time to go | |
| Oh, nothing on this earth is half as dear to me | |
| As the sound of my mama' s opry | |
| And we sang sweet rose of Sharon, abide with me | |
| ' Til I ride the gospel ship to heaven' s jubilee | |
| And in that great triumphant morning my soul will be free | |
| And my burdens will be lifted when my savior' s face I see | |
| So I don' t want to get adjusted to this world below | |
| But I know he' ll pilot me ' til it comes time to go | |
| Oh, nothing on this earth is half as dear to me | |
| As the sound of my mama' s opry |
| zuò cí : Dement | |
| She grew up plain and simple in a farming town | |
| Her daddy played the fiddle and used to do the calling when they had hoedowns | |
| She says the neighbors would come and they' d move all my grandma' s furniture ' round | |
| And there' d be twenty or more there on the old wooden floor dancin' to a country sound | |
| The Carters and Jimmy Rodgers played her favorite songs | |
| And on Saturday nights there was a radio show and she would sing along | |
| And I' ll never forget her face when she revealed to me | |
| That she' d dreamed about singing at The Grand Ol' Opry | |
| Her eyes, oh, how they sparkled when she sang those songs | |
| While she was hanging the clothes on the line, I was a kid just ahummin' along | |
| Well, I' d be playing in the grass, to her, what might' ve seemed, obliviously | |
| But there ain' t no doubt about it, she sure made her mark on me | |
| And she played old gospel records on the phonograph | |
| She turned them up loud and we' d sing along, but those days have passed | |
| Just now, that I am older, it occurs to me | |
| That I was singing in the grandest opry | |
| And we sang sweet rose of Sharon, abide with me | |
| ' Til I ride the gospel ship to heaven' s jubilee | |
| And in that great triumphant morning my soul will be free | |
| And my burdens will be lifted when my savior' s face I see | |
| So I don' t want to get adjusted to this world below | |
| But I know he' ll pilot me ' til it comes time to go | |
| Oh, nothing on this earth is half as dear to me | |
| As the sound of my mama' s opry | |
| And we sang sweet rose of Sharon, abide with me | |
| ' Til I ride the gospel ship to heaven' s jubilee | |
| And in that great triumphant morning my soul will be free | |
| And my burdens will be lifted when my savior' s face I see | |
| So I don' t want to get adjusted to this world below | |
| But I know he' ll pilot me ' til it comes time to go | |
| Oh, nothing on this earth is half as dear to me | |
| As the sound of my mama' s opry |