“Au Bayou, Cher
Verse 1
Sun come up on the bayou side,
Pirogue drifting with the muddy tide,
Spanish moss in the morning air,
Old porch creaking in a rocking chair.
Mama got the gumbo cooking thick,
Little cayenne gonna do the trick,
Accordion crying through the screen door air,
Papa holler, “Come dance, cher!”
Chorus
Down in South Louisiana, laissez les bon temps rouler,
Fiddle and accordion playing all day,
Boots stomping hard at the fais-do-do,
Everybody dancing like the Cajuns do.
Crawfish boiling in a black iron pot,
Cold beer sweating cause the night’s still hot,
If you hear that zydeco drum, mon ami,
You know you’re home in the Cajun country.
Verse 2
Shrimp boats rocking on the Gulf tide breeze,
Pelicans flying over marsh grass seas,
Grandma praying in Cajun French,
Grandpa laughing on the old porch bench.
Kids chasing fireflies in the yard at night,
Lantern glowing with a soft warm light,
Dance hall shaking while the fiddle cries,
Music rolling under southern skies.
Chorus
Down in South Louisiana, laissez les bon temps rouler,
Fiddle and accordion playing all day,
Boots stomping hard at the fais-do-do,
Everybody dancing like the Cajuns do.
Crawfish boiling in a black iron pot,
Cold beer sweating cause the night’s still hot,
If you hear that zydeco drum, mon ami,
You know you’re home in the Cajun country.
Bridge (Cajun French)
Dans le bayou, cher, la musique joue,
Accordéon pleure, violon aussi,
On danse toute la nuit sous les étoiles,
Bon Dieu, la vie est belle ici.
Final Chorus
Down in South Louisiana where the cypress grow,
Where the muddy bayou waters roll slow,
From the fais-do-do halls to the Gulf tide breeze,
Life feels easy underneath the trees.
So if you ever hear that old accordion run,
And smell that gumbo in the setting sun,
You’ll know right then where your heart belongs—
Down in Cajun land where the good times roll
Louisiana985
