Shannon 1997 W. Dire Wolff

The singer whispers her name into the microphone. His voice is soft, deep, and haunting, while the flamingo guitar plays softly. Those gathered around the campfire hush to listen to the music and the crackle of the yellow flames. The girls are jealous that her name hangs so sweetly from his lips. The boys wonder if she really is as beautiful as the concert by the bonfire. Overhead the stars twinkle in the cool mountain air.

Part One - Spanish Melody in E

Shannon, Shannon
Sing to me like the River
Sing to me like the wind in the trees
Sing to me
Sing for me.

Shannon, Shannon
Come to me, I’m dreaming
I’m dreaming of you
I hear you singing
I hear you singing
I’m singing too.

Shannon, Shannon
Singing in the dark
Singing in the dark purple hue
Bring to me your sweetness
Sweetness of the dew.

Shannon, Shannon
Sing to me like the River
Sing to me like the wind in the trees
Sing to me
Sing for me.


Bridge to Part to in A Minor

I’m just a rambler
No money for pleasure
But I’ve worked my time
In the hot noonday sun
You’re a fine woman with no easy pleasures
Lie down with me in the hot river sun.

I cannot offer gold or silver
No treasure or fortune did I ever find
Except for the meaning
The meaning of answers
That marks out the stars and takes away time.

I asked the river about my fortune,
I asked for you,
But it rolled on by,
I sang for you though you weren’t around me
So I sang to the trees and the blue river sky.


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Copyright © 1996 to 2015 by W. Dire Wolff

 

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