will I recall his parting words?
must I accept his fate or take myself far from this place…
I thought I heard a black bell toll,
a little bird did sing..
man has no choice when he wants everything…
we’ll rise above the scarlet tide that trickles down through the mountain…
and separates the widow from the bride.
there’s a very historical feel to this song; no doubt because it was written for “Cold Mountain” back in 2003.
it brings me to 2007. a good friend [whom I miss], a last-minute jaunt across the Bay Bridge at night into SoMa, the last time I was able to visit San Francisco for close to two years. the excited energy could have negated the melancholy of this song… but fortunately, it did the opposite. a delicate and hopeful balance.
