Lyrics:
We are but images of stone
Do us no harm
We can do none
St. Crispin and St. Crispian are we
On the arch of the Shoemaker's arbour
High above
The boatman calls from the lake
A lone loon dives upon the water
I put my hand over her
Down in the lime tree arbour
The wind in the trees is
Boatman calls from the lake
A lone loon dives upon the water
I put my hand over hers
Down in the lime tree arbour
The wind in the trees is
Boatman calls from the lake
A lone loon dives upon the water
I put my hand over hers
Down in the lime tree arbour
The wind in the trees is
The boatman calls from the lake
A lone loon dives upon the water
I put my hand over her
Down in the lime tree arbour
The wind in the trees is
swears she'd work his words out, If she ever knew.
How do I find her, Bearing my heart in hand.
Last winter, Anne Arbour Was all I had.
I still wear
words out, If she ever knew.
How do I find her, Bearing my heart in hand.
Last winter, Anne Arbour Was all I had.
I still wear your heart around my throat
the arbour
Where once all was read it's more unknowable now
Like a fine timepiece with the minute hand gone
Like an old string bow that's been loosened for
Æons of destiny
Intertwined in the roots
Our fate lies sealed
By the dryadic realm
Grey state of bleak
But a black drop away
Elegant Arbour
Seal our
It was the time of flowers, the gate was closed
Within an arbour's shade fair girls reposed.
But though their hearts were full, they nothing said,
and Plunkett
They shot McDonagh and Clarke the brave
From bleak Kilmainham they took Ceannt's body
To Arbour Hill and a quicklime grave
But last of all
Joxer woke up in his sleeping bag many miles from Arbour Hill.
The next morning none of the experts gave us the slightest chance
They said the English
silk matricide
Watchful as she was upon Eden
Where every rose arbour and orchard she swept
hid the hissing of a serpent Libido
In an ancient tryst
of a sin dynasty
Gutted like fool's paradise
Glutted on cruel appeitites
We've woven hearts a thorn arbour
Left tear streaked reason upon the shore
sun
On a misty day
And star-grazing eyes raising cappellas
But poison stunted there
Seven trees weaving
Arbour on nights
Spent in ecstasy
Neath
plus les mêmes
Marcel Barbeau, Pierre Gauvreau, Jean-Paul Riopelle, Marcelle Ferron, Fernand Leduc, Madeleine Arbour, Louise Renaud, Françoise Riopelle,
digging up is what they need
Then winter's here and it all go to sleep
You wrecked all my blooms, laid concrete on my grass
Burned down the arbour, what
In the parlour of the browns and the arbours
The fragrance is of long-dead flowers
She sits there waiting, her clothes need replacing
The smile is
you but I don't mean to barge
Cause I cut em off cut em off just like a barber
Childish, Childish Nicole arbour
lost in the sauce just like some tartar
to stay still or sober
Friends fell away like leaves of October
Fights would flare in the bars of the harbour
Id think of her from the bars of Arbour
CH
Arbour
Others might be sharper, I won’t be caught rusty
Try to touch me sh*t get ugly
Then my old buddy
He’ll slide and take your kneecaps I call him
paramours' harms
In myrtle arbours on the downs
The fairy-queen Proserpina
This night by moonshine leading merry rounds
Holds a watch with sweet love
Down
hour
I think of you
Foliage and broken windows
Take me back to where I met you
Every moment every hour
I think of you
Of you
We hid in the arbour
moss about the pool
And the tangled weedy thicket chokes the arbour dark and cool
In the silent sunken pathways springs an herbage sparse and spare
Where
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