Trina wears her wampam beads 

She fills her drawing book with line 

Sewing lace on widow's weeds

And filagree on leaf and vine

Vine and leaf are filagree 

And her coat's a second-hand one 

Sewn in antique luxury, 

She is a lady of the canyon



Annie sits you down to eat 

She always makes you welcome in 

Cats and babies around her feet

And all are fat and none are thin

None are thin and all are fat 

She may bake some brownies today 

Saying you are welcome back 

She is another canyon lady 



Esterella, circus girl, 

Comes wrapped in songs and gypsy shawls 

Songs like tiny hammers hurled 

At bevelled mirrors in empty halls

Empty halls and bevelled mirrors 

Sailing seas and climbing banyans

Come out for a visit here 

To be a lady of the canyon 



Trina takes her paints and thread

And weaves a pattern all her own

Annie bakes her cakes and bread 

And gathers flowers for her home 

For her home she gathers flowers

And Esterella, dear companion 

Colours up the sunshine hours

Pouring music down the canyon 



Colouring the sunshine hours 

They are the ladies of the canyon