i'm tired...

now... having just spent an excellent eve out on the hop. despite calls for the distillers, it was underneath the stars that send me to sleep.

SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST

Words:Trad, Tune:K.Rusby

There came a ghost to Margaret's door,

With many a grievious groan,

And aye he turled long at the pin,

But answer she gave none,

Is it my father Phillip,

Or yet my brother John,

Or yet my own dear William,

From Scotland now come home.

Thy faith and troth you'll never get,

Of me youíll never win,

Till you take me to yon churchyard,

And wed me with a ring,

Oh I do dwell in a chuchyard,

But far beyond the sea, And this is but my ghost Margaret,

That speaks now unto thee.

So she's put on her robes of green,

With a piece below the knee,

And all the live long winters night,

The sweet ghost followed she,

Is there room at your head Willie,

Or room here at your feet,

Or room here at your side Willie,

Where-in that I may sleep.

There's no room at my head Margaret,

And no room at my feet,

There's no room at my side Margaret,

My coffin is so neat,

Then up and spoke the red robin,

And up and spoke the grey,

Tis' time, tis' time my dear Margaret,

That I were gone away.

No more the ghost to Margaret came,

With many a grievious groan,

He's vanished out into the mist,

And left her there alone.

Oh stay my only true love stay,

My heart you do divide.

Pale grew her cheeks,

she closed her eyes,

Streched out her limbs and cried.

will i ever tire of this stuff?

there are so many things i wish i was. but isnt that where we're at - coming to to terms with who we are? we are who we are, not others, despite what others might have been given, we do what we can with what we have. we are who God made us.

still doesnt quite heal the longing...

please make it so.