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Andy Smythe: Music samples

Maid of the Loch from 'Last Throes of Summer'

(Andy Smythe)
February 27, 2004
Andy Smythe (words and music)
A song that came in a dream inspired by the legend around a Scottish loch I'd visited.
She sat on the cusp of the leafy island
Her waxen hair falling down her breasts
Her lover had left her stranded and lost
His boat gone away oer the loch
She’d waited so long to kiss his lips
To taste the strength of his skin
Oh to roll in the bracken and heather
To rise and fall together

A tear in her eye she gazed in the mist
Gliding down the mountain glen
Embalmed in the mystery of love and loss
She touched her soul to feel the cost
She’d waited so long to smell his face
To taste his bitter perfume
Oh to touch his shadow at last
Neath the light of the silver moon

She waded in to wash clean her flesh
The pale green water up to her breast
Let its touch numb her pain
Free her from the curse of his name
Let the ghosts of the lake play with her soul
The shame of her love be gone
She’ll dance through the waves to a watery grave
Let the sigh of the wind be her song