In South Louisiana, In the Attakapas wood
Where the river meets the levee
Planted in the cove is an old live oak
On the shore of Lake Bijou (j**el)
Amongst its leaves, in the tangle of the branches
The swallows return every spring
They find refuge in that old oak
On the shore of Lake Bijou (j**el)
Chorus:
Turn, turn in my arms
Hold me tight once again
Stay with me underneath the live oak tree
On the shore of Lake Bijou (j**el)
It was in 1957
The first time that I saw them
The two together, building their nest
On the shore of Lake Bijou (j**el)
They would return when the winter was done
I called them Pierre and Marie
A big «Monsieur » black as the night
His lady by his side
Chorus
During Lent this last April
I saw him one last time
A lone bird, waiting on his branch
On the shore of Lake Bijou (j**el)
He was still, his heart breaking
Watching from morning until night
Until that Sunday when he was gone
From the shore of Lake Bijou (j**el)
Chorus
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