1. |
Omens
03:02
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Little crow, little crow, won't you sit here with me
Tell me about the world 'neath your wings
Tell me what your dark eyes have seen
When you venture on into the night
I've seen a black dog, with a howl like a keening
A ghost's lullaby and a dirge for the living
So I circled above him and I lent him my singing
Then I ventured on into the night
I have seen riders from under the hill
A host of fae hunters, wild and fell
And even at daybreak I can hear the horn still
So I ventured on into the night
I've seen a woman washing clothes at the ford
Clothes fit for a peasant, and fit for a lord
And I love her and fear her and she'll not be ignored
When I venture on into the night
Little crow, little crow, won't you sit here with me
(By the light of the moon)
Tell me about the world 'neath your wings
(Where we know it is safe)
Tell me what your dark eyes have seen
(In this world and the next)
When you venture on into the night
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2. |
Sweet Spring Rain
03:15
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Sweet spring rain, come again, come again
'Til the fire in the mountains burns low
Sweet spring rain, come again, come again
To the shadow of the hills I know
Oh rain, wash my sorrow down your rivers
Carry it out to the sea
Bathe my heart in your tides of salt and brine
And carry it back to me
Sweet spring rain, come again, come again
'Til the fire in the mountains burns low
Sweet spring rain, come again, come again
To the shadow of the hills I know
Oh rain, break my fury like the flame
Shatter my wrath and my rue
Turn these ashes deep into the earth
And grow from them something new
Sweet spring rain, come again, come again
'Til the fire in the mountains burns low
Sweet spring rain, come again, come again
To the shadow of the hills I know
Oh rain, come down upon my altar
Bless this hidden heart of mine
Feed these joys as they sleep beneath the earth
And grow them like flowers on the vine
Sweet spring rain, come again, come again
'Til the fire in the mountains burns low
Sweet spring rain, come again, come again
To the shadow of the hills I know
Sweet spring rain, come again, come again
'Til the fire in the mountains burns low
Sweet spring rain, come again, come again
To the shadow of the hills I know
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3. |
I Will Bury My Axe
06:26
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The river hears the willow's song
As they mourn their lover, dead and gone
A song of loss, on roots borne deep
And of love to make the willows weep
Five hundred years since Strongbow's claim
On Ireland's soil green and fair
A willow drank from a running river bank
And in verdant boughs a spirit sang
Their limbs were long, their hair was wild
Their song as sweet as summer wine
And ever far abroad they sought
For a voice to sing in time with theirs
There was a woodman tall and proud
And as he walked he sang aloud
With a voice as golden as the sun
Through the dappled woods where rivers run
And at his side he wore an axe
With an iron blade as cold as ice
For timber was his stock and trade
For to warm the hearth and gird the hall
And as he strode through dappled woods
With golden voice and axe of iron
He stopped and drank by a running river bank
And he spied the spirit's willow tree
He brought his iron axe to bear
To hew the trunk and branches fair
But as the axe bit wooden flesh
He heard the spirit cry in pain
His blood ran cold at the spirit's cry
And he tore his axe from wounded trunk
And cast it down on the running river bank
Though a shard of iron within remained
At last he saw the spirit's face
And he swore an oath on bended knee
"I will bury my axe on the running river bank"
"And I'll never harm another tree."
They stood together through the spring
And wove their songs o'er willow wood
The voices healed the wounded tree
And their love like sap and longing grew
They fastened hands under summer sun
Ancient wose and mortal man
And he told them tales of the wild grey world
And they sang him songs of root and stone
When winter howled like wind and wolf
They lay beneath the willow's arms
Sheltered from the ice and snow
Their dreams untroubled by the frost
A year and a day since first they met
A message came from the woodsman's clan
Of nine year's war and family slain
At Moyry Pass near Armagh town
The woodsman rose in ruinous wrath
And swore an oath of blood and war
"I'll bury my axe in an English heart
On Ulster soil with clan and kin"
The spirit read his shadow'd fate
And grieving bade him follow his oath
Said they I cannot follow you
Though ever my heart will walk with yours
Again the woodsman claimed his axe
Once buried deep in forest soil
And still it gleamed like iron and ice
With a luster forged of sorrow's toil
The woodsman fought at Kinsale siege
And red was the earth with his axe's art
And red was the sun, at the battle's end
When an English arrow found his heart
And in the dappled forest green
The spirit knew their love was slain
For the shard of iron in their tree
Was shattered like a fragile dream
Now the river hears the Willow's song
As they mourn their lover dead and gone
A song of loss on roots borne deep
And of love to make the willows weep
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4. |
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Winter buds are wanting red
On branches lorn of leaves now dead
Dreaming roots are buried deep
Stone will slumber, earth will sleep
Here is raven, gone is lark
These are the things that I found in the dark
A ring of iron, a ring of gold
A ring of silver to remind me of home
A locket forged 'neath emerald skies
On an anvil of dreams by a hammer of lies
A promise always leaves its mark
These are the things that I found in the dark
A burning star, a gentle moon
A blanket of night on a silver loom
A hallowed hall of spirits sworn
Each unfallen tear to mourn
A beating heart, a thrumming harp
These are the things that I found in the dark
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5. |
And Then I Awoke
04:30
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I dreamed I was a green willow tree
The song of the river surrounding me
I heard every secret from the spring to the sea
I dreamed I was a green willow tree
And then I awoke
I dreamed I was an oak struck by lightning
A tower of strength sundered by flame
'Tis a fool who sees nothing but loss in the breaking
A dreamed I was an oak struck by lightning
And then I awoke
I dreamed I was a hedge of blackthorn
Growing to honor the lost and the lorn
A keeper of magic that from sorrow is born
I dreamed I was a hedge of blackthorn
And then I awoke
I awoke to the sound of the river around me
To the scent of the ashes of a towering tree
To sloe-berries growing protected by thorn
I awoke to a garden and I'll walk among her
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Brennan Twiceborn Seattle, Washington
I want to make of my music keys to hidden, secret places in the human heart, and the heart of the world. Bard, harper, changeling. The song in my heart honors both oak and thorn.
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