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Robin Pecknold
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Derwentwater Stones
Midnight in the swaying leaves
midnight in the field
And the moon is like a sheet
covering the shield
And you told me, 'Come along'
carrying away
'To the Derwentwater stones
and I know the place'
All the faces in the moss
look like those I've known
Or like bruises on the rocks
on the broken stone
And the voices speak to me
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and the faces change
And the rhododendron seeds
bloom and stain the range
And you tell me to be good
now I'm on my own
Through the red and auburn wood
to the broken stone
Midnight in the swaying leaves
midnight in the field
And the moon is like a sheet
covering the shield
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