Little Birds of Desire

[Dept of PMM Castle Life]

Little Birds Of Desire contains mostly acoustic versions of new songs and re-done songs, including The Old Woman Was A Gypsy, Epona (acoustic version), Fair Eloise And The Tinkers, Crystali, Bedlam Boys, and contains perhaps more Gypsy style fiddle than any previous CD.

 

Lyrics

 

THE OLD WOMAN WAS A GYPSY

It was a family secret that the old woman was a gypsy

The old woman from the mountains where the wolves run free

A little girl from Hungary who once spent nights in a wagon

Listening to the sounds of the horses and the tzimbolon play



Oh, Sara, do you ever long for the campfires?

Do you ever long for the sound of the rain on the

Tin roof of your wagon?

How I wish I'd known you picking lilacs on the mountains

Not staring out the window at the city in the rain



No more the sword and the chalice, no more the stave and the mooncoin

No more nights by the campfire singing in Tzigany

When you traveled over the ocean, when you learned to speak in Yiddish

When you wore your hair unfastened when they taught you how to read



Oh, Sara, do you ever long for the campfires?

Do you ever long for the sound of the rain on the

Tin roof of your wagon?

How I wish I'd known you picking lilacs on the mountains

Not staring out the window at the city in the rain



I dreamed last night of the wolf's cry

Somewhere a child was crying

Somewhere was the crying of a fiddle and the

Men laughed as they gambled

From the shadows by the fire

I thought I heard somebody call you

A pretty little girl in a colored skirt,

your hair tied high behind you




A tenement in Brooklyn where the neighbors whisper low in Russian

Where the coffee tastes like water and the doors lock in your soul

But late in the secret of moonlight, soft in the shadows of your kitchen

The coin and the stave and the chalice speak the

Language of the mountains



Oh, Sara, do you ever long for the campfires?

Do you ever long for the sound of the rain on the

Tin roof of your wagon?

How I wish I'd known you picking lilacs on the mountains

Not staring out the window at the city in the rain

It was a family secret that the old woman was a gypsy

 

EPONA

By the sea strand in the silver of moon

Come to the water and dance with me

If you catch the breeze right they say there's a tune

Cakes of oats and barley

and they say a girl rides there with skin white and fair

come to the water and dance with me

and brown chestnut eyes like the mane of a mare

cakes of oats and barley



So down to the water I walked in the night

Come to the water and dance with me

with offerings of apple and tunes on the pipe

Cakes of oats and barley

And the full moon rose over and the stars they shone long

Come to the water and dance with me

And the world was all tide and the tune of my song

Cakes of oats and barley



So what's the dream now that I dreamed on the strand

Come to the water and dance with me

But fair leg and mare's flank and the touch of her hand

Cakes of oats and barley

And she sang with my pipe in the voice of the lark

Come to the water and dance with me

Held me under her cloak in the tide swirling dark

Cakes of oats and barley



She said play your pipes slowly and dance where you may

And I'll be your love till the dawn of the day

Hold me with arms and the brown glow of eyes

I've mysteries deep in the hips and the thighs

Oh, play your pipes slowly and dance me a tune

where the mare's hooves in sand leave the crescent of moon

Wherever you dance your longing will stay

and I'll be your love till the end of your days



By the sea strand in the silver of moon

Come to the water and dance with me

There's a mark there like a mare's shodden hooves

Cakes of oats and barley

And though I grow old with the grey of the sea

Come to the water and dance with me

That mark still remains and on me's still the dream

Cakes of oats and barley



So let others take pleasure in the pubs and the town

Come to the water and dance with me

Cast them a charm when the moon's full and round

Cakes of oats and barley

But always the lark's voice will whisper my name

Come to the water and dance with me

And always I'll go and deliver the same

Cakes of oats and barley

 

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