David Heavenor: Music
I'M WATCHING ROSANNA
(David Heavenor)
(Heavenor PRS/MCPS)
Album: Winter's Children
Written for a girl I met in my twenties in Donegal, Ireland who was part of a religious cult I suppose you could call it. I wondered whether she would succumb or jump clear. I have no idea what happened to her.
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I'M WATCHING ROSANNA
'Enough of lies ...' she said to me
'I'm going to cast my fate upon this sea
The creaking chapel on the cliff
Is bound by stones that rot and shift'
The howling preacher strokes his hands
Proclaiming dust and dirt and sand
My lifeblood sleeps, my pale skin tight
My dreams embark on sails of light
And I'm watching Rosanna
Walk the steps down by Brendan’s Bay
Watching Rosanna
Walk these hills a hundred different ways
The choirs chant the purple hymns
Black bible fate is what they din
A shadow circles on the street
The house of God the wolf's retreat
Poor lamb of God, forsaken Christ
Love's fire and wisdom fixed in ice
The traveller asked 'What's here being sold?'
A whited sepulchre, bones painted gold
Dive, dive, dive, my girl beloved,
Fly like the falcon, face the flood'
Her body arced, the bright waves curled
Her burnished skin lovely as the world
The chapel doors disgorged a cry
And fists, mad-waving, cut the sky
'She swims the untamed brine' they spat
'How dare she give her naked self like that'
Then Mary's boy rose, silver fish
He laughed, and kissed death dead with love's strong wish