| Song | Acadian Driftwood |
| Artist | The Band |
| Album | To Kingdom Come (The Definitive Collection) |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Robertson | |
| The war was over | |
| And the spirit was broken | |
| The hills were smokin' | |
| As the men withdrew | |
| We stood on the cliffs, | |
| Oh and watched the ships, | |
| Slowly sinking to their rendezvous | |
| They signed a treaty | |
| And our homes were taken | |
| Loved-ones forsaken, | |
| They didn't give a damn. | |
| Try to raise a family | |
| End up an enemy | |
| Over what went down on the Plains of Abraham. | |
| [Chorus] | |
| Acadian driftwood, | |
| Gypsy tailwind | |
| They call my home, | |
| The land of snow | |
| Canadian cold front, | |
| Movin' in | |
| What a way to ride, | |
| Oh what a way to go | |
| Then some returned, | |
| To the motherland | |
| The high command, | |
| Had them cast away | |
| Some stayed on, | |
| To finish what they started | |
| They never parted, | |
| They're just built that way | |
| We had kin livin', | |
| South of the border | |
| They're a little older, | |
| And they been around | |
| They wrote in a letter | |
| Life is a whole lot better | |
| So pull up your stakes, children, | |
| And come on down | |
| Acadian driftwood, | |
| Gypsy tailwind | |
| They call my home, | |
| The land of snow | |
| Canadian cold front, | |
| Movin' in | |
| What a way to ride, | |
| Oh what a way to go | |
| Fifty under zero when the day became a threat | |
| My clothes were wet | |
| And I was drenched to the bone | |
| Then out ice fishin', mmm, | |
| Too much repetition | |
| Make a man want to leave | |
| The only home he's known | |
| Sailed out of the Gulf, | |
| Headed for St. Pierre | |
| Nothing to declare, | |
| All we had was gone | |
| Broke down along the coast oh | |
| What hurt the most | |
| When the people there said | |
| "You better keep movin' on" | |
| Acadian driftwood, | |
| Gypsy tailwind | |
| They call my home, | |
| The land of snow | |
| Canadian cold front, | |
| Movin' in | |
| What a way to ride, | |
| Oh what a way to go | |
| Everlastin' summer | |
| Filled with ill-contempt | |
| This government | |
| Had us walkin' in chains | |
| This isn't my turn | |
| This isn't my season | |
| Can't think of one good reason | |
| To remain oh | |
| We worked in the sugar fields | |
| Up from New Orleans | |
| It was ever-green | |
| Up until the flood | |
| You could call it an omen | |
| Point ya where ya goin' | |
| Set my compass North | |
| I got winter in my blood | |
| Acadian driftwood, | |
| Gypsy tailwind | |
| They call my home, | |
| The land of snow | |
| Canadian cold front, | |
| Movin' in | |
| What a way to ride, | |
| Oh what a way to go | |
| Sais tu, Acadie j'ai le mal do pays | |
| Ta neige, Acadie, fait des larmes au soleil | |
| J'arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo | |
| J'arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo | |
| J'arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo | |
| J'arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo | |
| J'arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo |
| zuo ci : Robertson | |
| The war was over | |
| And the spirit was broken | |
| The hills were smokin' | |
| As the men withdrew | |
| We stood on the cliffs, | |
| Oh and watched the ships, | |
| Slowly sinking to their rendezvous | |
| They signed a treaty | |
| And our homes were taken | |
| Lovedones forsaken, | |
| They didn' t give a damn. | |
| Try to raise a family | |
| End up an enemy | |
| Over what went down on the Plains of Abraham. | |
| Chorus | |
| Acadian driftwood, | |
| Gypsy tailwind | |
| They call my home, | |
| The land of snow | |
| Canadian cold front, | |
| Movin' in | |
| What a way to ride, | |
| Oh what a way to go | |
| Then some returned, | |
| To the motherland | |
| The high command, | |
| Had them cast away | |
| Some stayed on, | |
| To finish what they started | |
| They never parted, | |
| They' re just built that way | |
| We had kin livin', | |
| South of the border | |
| They' re a little older, | |
| And they been around | |
| They wrote in a letter | |
| Life is a whole lot better | |
| So pull up your stakes, children, | |
| And come on down | |
| Acadian driftwood, | |
| Gypsy tailwind | |
| They call my home, | |
| The land of snow | |
| Canadian cold front, | |
| Movin' in | |
| What a way to ride, | |
| Oh what a way to go | |
| Fifty under zero when the day became a threat | |
| My clothes were wet | |
| And I was drenched to the bone | |
| Then out ice fishin', mmm, | |
| Too much repetition | |
| Make a man want to leave | |
| The only home he' s known | |
| Sailed out of the Gulf, | |
| Headed for St. Pierre | |
| Nothing to declare, | |
| All we had was gone | |
| Broke down along the coast oh | |
| What hurt the most | |
| When the people there said | |
| " You better keep movin' on" | |
| Acadian driftwood, | |
| Gypsy tailwind | |
| They call my home, | |
| The land of snow | |
| Canadian cold front, | |
| Movin' in | |
| What a way to ride, | |
| Oh what a way to go | |
| Everlastin' summer | |
| Filled with illcontempt | |
| This government | |
| Had us walkin' in chains | |
| This isn' t my turn | |
| This isn' t my season | |
| Can' t think of one good reason | |
| To remain oh | |
| We worked in the sugar fields | |
| Up from New Orleans | |
| It was evergreen | |
| Up until the flood | |
| You could call it an omen | |
| Point ya where ya goin' | |
| Set my compass North | |
| I got winter in my blood | |
| Acadian driftwood, | |
| Gypsy tailwind | |
| They call my home, | |
| The land of snow | |
| Canadian cold front, | |
| Movin' in | |
| What a way to ride, | |
| Oh what a way to go | |
| Sais tu, Acadie j' ai le mal do pays | |
| Ta neige, Acadie, fait des larmes au soleil | |
| J' arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo | |
| J' arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo | |
| J' arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo | |
| J' arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo | |
| J' arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo |
| zuò cí : Robertson | |
| The war was over | |
| And the spirit was broken | |
| The hills were smokin' | |
| As the men withdrew | |
| We stood on the cliffs, | |
| Oh and watched the ships, | |
| Slowly sinking to their rendezvous | |
| They signed a treaty | |
| And our homes were taken | |
| Lovedones forsaken, | |
| They didn' t give a damn. | |
| Try to raise a family | |
| End up an enemy | |
| Over what went down on the Plains of Abraham. | |
| Chorus | |
| Acadian driftwood, | |
| Gypsy tailwind | |
| They call my home, | |
| The land of snow | |
| Canadian cold front, | |
| Movin' in | |
| What a way to ride, | |
| Oh what a way to go | |
| Then some returned, | |
| To the motherland | |
| The high command, | |
| Had them cast away | |
| Some stayed on, | |
| To finish what they started | |
| They never parted, | |
| They' re just built that way | |
| We had kin livin', | |
| South of the border | |
| They' re a little older, | |
| And they been around | |
| They wrote in a letter | |
| Life is a whole lot better | |
| So pull up your stakes, children, | |
| And come on down | |
| Acadian driftwood, | |
| Gypsy tailwind | |
| They call my home, | |
| The land of snow | |
| Canadian cold front, | |
| Movin' in | |
| What a way to ride, | |
| Oh what a way to go | |
| Fifty under zero when the day became a threat | |
| My clothes were wet | |
| And I was drenched to the bone | |
| Then out ice fishin', mmm, | |
| Too much repetition | |
| Make a man want to leave | |
| The only home he' s known | |
| Sailed out of the Gulf, | |
| Headed for St. Pierre | |
| Nothing to declare, | |
| All we had was gone | |
| Broke down along the coast oh | |
| What hurt the most | |
| When the people there said | |
| " You better keep movin' on" | |
| Acadian driftwood, | |
| Gypsy tailwind | |
| They call my home, | |
| The land of snow | |
| Canadian cold front, | |
| Movin' in | |
| What a way to ride, | |
| Oh what a way to go | |
| Everlastin' summer | |
| Filled with illcontempt | |
| This government | |
| Had us walkin' in chains | |
| This isn' t my turn | |
| This isn' t my season | |
| Can' t think of one good reason | |
| To remain oh | |
| We worked in the sugar fields | |
| Up from New Orleans | |
| It was evergreen | |
| Up until the flood | |
| You could call it an omen | |
| Point ya where ya goin' | |
| Set my compass North | |
| I got winter in my blood | |
| Acadian driftwood, | |
| Gypsy tailwind | |
| They call my home, | |
| The land of snow | |
| Canadian cold front, | |
| Movin' in | |
| What a way to ride, | |
| Oh what a way to go | |
| Sais tu, Acadie j' ai le mal do pays | |
| Ta neige, Acadie, fait des larmes au soleil | |
| J' arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo | |
| J' arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo | |
| J' arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo | |
| J' arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo | |
| J' arrive Acadie, teedle um, teedle um, teedle oo |