It weeps to see you pass.
And while I wandered in the street,
You danced upon the grass.
I heard your laughter in the air,
It burned my soul like fire.
The sunset shone upon your hair
Like blood upon the lyre.
You passed on into shadowlands,
Leaving behind your light,
And I wrung my crimsoned hands
For I lost you in the night.
* * * * * * * * * * *
In my head, this is sung to an Irish lament. Which one? Couldn't tell you...
