Verse 1 When the moon hangs low on the standing stone And the heather bends in fear, There’s a sound that slips through flesh and bone That only the doomed can hear. Silver hair in the cold night air By the old river’s edge she stands, Counting names in a whispered wail Like grains of blackened sand. Pre-Chorus She’s not wrath, she’s not spite, She’s a warning dressed in white, Bound to blood and ancient land. Chorus Oh hush now, hear her sing, That sorrow on the wind, A banshee’s cry at the breaking dawn. She weeps for what must be, For the dead and yet-to-be, When her voice fades, another’s gone. Verse 2 She knows the doors that soon will close The candles burning thin, She walks the line where the worlds oppose With a tear-stained violin. No blade she bears, no hand she lifts, Yet kings still bow their heads, For her song outlasts the proudest halls And follows where blood is led. Pre-Chorus From cradle-song to funeral bell, She knows us all too well, A shadow none outran. Chorus Oh hush now, hear her sing, That sorrow on the wind, A banshee’s cry at the breaking dawn. She weeps for what must be, For the dead and yet-to-be, When her voice fades, another’s gone. Bridge If you hear her by your name, Don’t curse, don’t pray, don’t flee, Light a fire, hold your kin, And face what’s meant to be. For grief is love that learned to scream Across the thinning veil, And she is just the memory That refuses not to wail. Final Chorus So hush now, hear her sing, That sorrow on the wind, A banshee’s cry beneath the storm. She mourns before the fall, For she loves us most of all, And her song keeps death in form. Outro When the night grows still and pale, And the lark begins to fly, There’s mercy in the wailing— For someone cared enough to cry.
