1. |
Circle
03:53
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They stole that stone away, from the circle you had made, they say;
A token left behind, for someone else to find, in time.
Was it an offering, votive or otherwise?
As the interpretation, we revise.
Its power's ebbed away, no reason to display, today;
Once a special place, soon you must replace.
Is an intervention, just the start?
I forgot to mention, the drift apart.
Built in such a way, for divinity, to come and stay.
Built in such a way, for divinity, to come and stay.
Was it sentimental, the shape of all?
But it feels incremental, against the sprawl.
Built in such a way, for divinity, to come and stay.
Built in such a way, for divinity, to come and stay.
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2. |
Creag na h-Airighe
04:15
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The summer sun hits the township,
The beacon has been light.
We head up north to Creag na h-Airighe,
We just can't wait to go.
Time away from the sagart,
Hide from prying eyes.
We reconnect with each other,
Remember what we found.
///
Is this kind of summer life;
The highlight of our time.
If that's true, then who are you,
To stand there in our view.
///
We meet a man on the hillside,
Keeps a thousand tales.
He claims to guard the old traditions;
A single source of truth.
He starts to tell your mathair's stories,
Our very own seanchaidh.
The details wrong and the warmth is gone,
But still he pushes on and on and on.
///
The tales we tell are for ourselves,
Not for anyone else.
Don't want collecting or safe-keeping,
By a man like you.
Is this kind of summer life,
The highlight of our time.
If that's true, then who the hell are you,
To stand there in our view.
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Ross Crawford Glasgow, UK
Ross Crawford records music in his bedroom.
Maybe you'll like it.
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