Tekst:
Loreena Mckennitt Live In Paris And Toronto

when the fiddler plays All their voices can be heard Long past their woodland days And so they linked their hands and danced Round in circles and in rows And

When the dark wood fell before me And all the paths were overgrown When the priests of pride say there is no other way I tilled the sorrows of stone

will we sleep?" For the Oak and the Ash, they are all cutten down And the walls of bonny Portmore are all down to the ground. O bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand And

o And there does sit my brother Hugh with a hey ho and a bonny o And by him William, sweet and true the swans swim so bonny o And there does sit

was a vision before me. We left the music behind and the dance carried on As we stole away to the seashore We smelt the brine, felt the wind in our hair And

When darkness lays her crimson cloak Your lamps will call me home And so it's there my homage's due Clutched by the still of the night And now I feel