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lyrics

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

credits

from Hurtling Through [EP], released November 27, 2015
Words from the W.B. Yeats poem 'The Song of Wandering Aengus'.
Melody inspired by the Christy Moore version of this song.

Hollie Fullbrook - acoustic guitars, vocals, dulcimer
Hamish Kilgour - drums, shakers, guiro, tambourine, tabla, hand drums
Danny Tunick - upright bass
Gary Olson - space echo

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