Carling Lake from Carling Lake by Jabbour

I’ll meet you at the top again
The lift is running late
On your way down you can’t pretend
The line is always straight

Sometimes it feels like we’re floating
We’ve lost all control
But it lets up and soon we’re gliding
Feeling whole

Flying down the Ram with fury
Bombing down the Goat
I never second guessed the hurry
As the wind broke off my coat

We wanted to look good going down
It was the game to play
We made tracks upon the ground
Warmed up in the chalet

If we could get a ride to Carling Lake
We’d take the Pine Hill road
When the hill was freshly draped at Carling Lake
We were sure to go, we were sure to go

Some days the ice was much too slick
We couldn’t make a turn
It really was much too quick
The hard way we would learn

We grew up on that little hill
We didn’t know it yet
The memories that serve us still
We wouldn’t soon forget

If we could get a ride to Carling Lake
We’d take the Pine Hill road
When the hill was freshly draped at Carling Lake
We were sure to go, we were sure to go

• Folk
• acoustic
• chanson
• fiddle
• north americana
• roots
• Montreal