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2. |
Through Brake and Briar
03:57
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Through Brake and Briar
Through brake and briar I make my way
My homeward way through brake and briar
Old grows the year, dark grows the day
I set my thoughts on food and fire.
My master’s swine have fed right well
The acorn harvest fattens them
They go before, I walk behind
I bar the gate and pen them in.
Orion’s belt shines bright and clear
He spins his way across the sky
The leafless trees, the frosted grass
The waxing moon, the stealthy breeze.
I feel the weight of all the years
I feel the cold, the arching void
Such empty black immensity
Is crushing me, is crushing me.
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3. |
The Ghost of Lady Bennet
05:42
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The Ghost of Lady Bennet
The manor house is sleeping, the moon is shining bright.
A little boy is listening to the noises in the night.
Tawny owls are hunting, there’s a distant fox,
A creak upon the landing, ticking of the clocks-
Lie low! Lie low!
Is it mice beneath the floorboards, starlings in the eaves,
Wind around the gables, raising piles of leaves?
Underneath the covers, fingers in his ears
A little boy is shaking, whispering his prayers-
Bow low! Bow low! It’s Lady Bennet.
I wish I’d never heard the story about her wicked life
And how that evil butcher sliced her with his wicked knife
They say that murdered souls can wander, shut outside the gates of Hell,
Looking for someone to listen and hear the sorry tale they tell.
The manor house is sleeping, the night has grown so cold.
Adam Barnes is creeping nearer to the gold
There’s a step upon the staircase, a prowler in the Hall,
“Who’s there?” cries Lady Bennet. There’s no answer to her call-
“Who goes? Who goes?”
Lady Bennet’s waiting, a spider in her lair.
In the glimmer of a candle, Lady Bennet’s there.
Adam Barnes is startled, he strikes and makes it good,
A tradesman used to killing, and carcases, and blood.
Lie low! Lie low, my Lady Bennet.
I wish I’d never heard the story about her store of gold
Not a penny did I find there no fortune as I was told.
The hue and cry so quickly followed, no mercy did they show to me
I’m waiting for the hooded hangman beside the gallows tree.
The manor house is sleeping the moon is shining bright.
A little boy is listening to the noises of the night-
Lie low ! Lie low!
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Kevin Adams Milton Keynes, UK
Blending traditional folk music with a love of other genres- classical, jazz, folk-rock, prog-rock, pop… music, music, music…
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