The low lying light shapes the shadows
On the green green grass we walk
Its wild alive the inspiration lies
In natures fine delight

We ramble along
Trying to think of the words to a song
Like butterflies they flutter-by
Whistling in the wind 
Who was to know their wings would settle
On a cold damp September day 

in the trees buzzing bees and the rowan berries 
beneath the shining sky
but we find how we are spiralling around
feet far from the ground

We ramble along
Trying to think of the words to a song
Like butterflies they flutter-by
Whistling in the wind 
Who was to know their wings would settle
On a cold damp September day, day

Cold September day
Cold September day

September Day

Folky Multi-Instrumentalist in Lancashire, on a musical journey!

New tracks tagged #folk cello