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lyrics

Bansidhe, Bansidhe, keening at the well
Who do you claim as you loose the gates of Hell
The souls of the slain called from your shrieking lips
Your chosen plucked form life with icy fingertips

Oh screaming hag that rides the wind, bring my love to me
For I would see his face again on this Hallows Eve
You wash the soul right from the skin, deliver us from life
Our spirits are renewed in the velvet womb of night

counterpoint:
Morrigan of the raven wing, yours the song the slain do sing
Mighty queen of forgotten things, open up the gate

credits

from Songs for the Waning Year, released October 31, 2008
Written by Sharon Knight

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Sharon Knight Oakland

Festival favorites Sharon Knight and her longtime collaborator Winter perform a mythic-Celtic style, which they call "Neofolk Romantique; songs for poets, adventurers and lovers of mystery". They tour internationally several months of the year, bringing their fantastical tales of love and magic to festivals, cafes, and homes across the land. ... more

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