When the moon comes up and the sun goes down
And the world turns grey and cold
The Hunter´s hounds howl at my heels
Down the broken road again
And I think I hear the Hunter sing:
Down to the Devil, Down to the Sea
Ride for the elves' fair country
Down to the Devil, Down to the Sea
Ride for the elves' fair country
Never knew his name, never saw his face
He was only a voice in the dark
His songs made me weep
His songs made me dream
And I dreamed my life away
Into the dark wood, into the shadows
Down the track of time I ran
I longed for the music
I searched for the singer
While all I knew died away
And I thought I heard the Hunter sing, etc.
His face was sad, his eyes were bleak
He asked me why I came
“This place is not for you,
You´re mortal yet and weak,
My songs should have been enough.”
The wood was cold and the wind was sharp
Sharper than the cut of fear
He stood dark and proud
Like an idol in the fog
All his music stilled
He raised a hand, the hounds began to bay
“Mortal, run while you may
My hounds are fierce and fast.”
I fled into the wood
Weeping for the singer
Whose songs are always sad
And as I wander, this is what I sing:
To Hell with the Devil and the deep blue Sea
I´ll never leave you in this country
To Hell with the Devil and the deep blue Sea
I´ll never leave you in this country
Copyright ©1999 Sara Keating. This work will enter the public domain January 1st, 2030.