Trout Fishing In America Alberta Postcard
Oh my nose froze, from my head down to my toes froze.
Went sliding in white snow down the streets of Calgary.
We saw sun dogs, stayed all day till we saw moon dogs,
home to a fire of burning birch logs, a night of quiet
revelry.
It's not always this cold. Guess we got lucky this
time.
But 35 below's impressive to a southern boy and
memories like this will always be frozen in time.
Oh my nose froze, from my head down to my toes froze.
It was cold in that Alberta snow.
Wouldn't have had it any other way.
Tell me stories, tell me stories 'bout your dry rain.
I see the lightning and I smell the rain,
falls but it never hits the ground.
Hear how the snow squeaks, tires are grinding
and groaning down city streets,
people out and about and on their feet, put on those
goober boots and go.
It's not always this cold. Guess we got lucky this
time.
But 35 below's impressive to a southern boy and
memories like this will always be frozen in time.
Oh my nose froze, from my head down to my toes froze.
It was cold in that Alberta snow.
Wouldn't have had it any other way.
Out of Canmore on the road to Banff, Alberta postcard,
I can't believe where I am.
Sugar frosted forest, wind sculpted First Face
and the big horn sheep climbing all over the place.
Oh my nose froze, from my head down to my toes froze,
went sliding in white snows, down the streets of
Calgary.
Oh my nose froze, from my head down to my toes froze.
It was cold in that Alberta snow.
Wouldn't have had it any other way.
Wouldn't have had it any other way.
