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song - Snow on The River (iii)

I saw you once in Janet’s Lounge in the way you flicked your hair
And for a moment I was back in the Town Hall on the stairs
We were heading for tomorrow amongst the chosen few
I touched your arm and spoke and when she turned it wasn’t you

I scrawled our names in stone once on the seawall at MacDuff
I thought the end would never come, but stone’s not tough enough
To stand the blast of wind and wave, that took the love we had
Somewhere between the Sandhead shore and a fading photograph


I watched your plane come gliding down from the north of Anniesland
And your name was in the vapour trails as if by your own hand
You threw your arms around me there as everyone looked on
But I was just a refugee from someone else’s song

An Islay piper stopped and played Loch Rannoch just for me
I saw your eyes in shadow as I stood there on my knees
We crossed the line of madness once when whisky set us free
Forbidden fruit that called so sweet, we knew could never be


The notion we’ve lived other lives makes so little sense to me
And yet somehow we connected then as if we’d always been
We hardly spoke we hardly touched, we often turned our backs
On something deep that seemed to break the laws of time and chance

I heard you once in springtime babe, down where the bluebells spread
Between the White Loch and the road, in words we left unsaid
In purple perfumed haze there, I could smell the scent of grief
It wasn’t you; just thoughts of you, upon a trembling leaf


But sometimes you’re there everywhere, and I’m sure you know it still
And we could have been, as we were seen, but not for lack of will
Our good friends tried to keep us tied; for that I’m grateful too
But there were walls that wouldn’t fall, and so I ran from you

I heard from green eyes long since that you’d moved out to New York
But tragedy was waiting, and the rains fell for your loss
Some for the pain you’ve had to bear; and some for might have been
I look for you in every street but know you’re out of reach

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