Martha Tilston - Stags Bellow

Where are you? Where are you? Who shares the frying pan with you? I move forward, these days forward. Did you stay, did security kick in? 

Stags bellow in the Royal Park I watch them throw their heads back, all hiding in the autumn mist. Oh lord, I love this time of year, I love this time of year.

So where are you? And who are you? Are you big waves, big sea, Atlantic blue? I kept moving, little nomad. Do you remember how that gypsy soul was you?
Stags bellow in the Royal Park I watch them throw their heads back, all hiding in the autumn mist. Oh lord, I love this time of year, I love this time of year.

It takes me back to a time when you would come around and throw your arms over my shoulders and dance me 'round. We'd sparkle and spiral right into and through each other and then back to the ground. And all of my riches I would give all of my poetry, all my songs I'm yet to sing. And all my words, all my secrets, all my riches, everything I have just to feel that love like that could come around again, gonna come around again. It'll come around again. It could come around again. Can you come around again? Will you come around again? Will you come around again?

      Anne Briggs fez escola na folk inglesa. Continua a haver gente que vive ao ar livre, olha os veados a pastar nos campos e faz uma fogueira para aquecer a comida numa pequena frigideira. Depois escrevem-se versos, juntam-se melodias com cheiro a orvalho e a erva e mistura-se tudo na alma.