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