Thursday, November 29, 2007

The gentle acoustic genius of one Martin Barre and the perfect vocals of Ian Anderson shall prepare me for tonight's hoarding of chips.

Clear light on a slick palm

as I mis-deal the day

Slip the night from a shaved pack

make a marked card play

Call twilight hours down

from a heaven home

high above the highest bidder

for the good Lord's throne

In the wee hours I'll meet you

down by Dun Ringill ---

oh, and we'll watch the old gods play

by Dun Ringill

We'll wait in stone circles

`til the force comes through ---

lines joint in faint discord

and the stormwatch brews

a concert of kings

as the white sea snaps

at the heels of a soft prayer

whispered

In the wee hours I'll meet you

down by Dun Ringill ---

oh, and I'll take you quickly

by Dun Ringill

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