I Dream to Spread Wings

"And the purple of moorlands against the old sky," borrowed from the poem Spring in the City by Arthur Stringer, 1874-1950 [intro, bagpipes] [verse 1][scottish accent] Not a soul I can see Not a sound to my ears In the age of a tree In the dampness of tears How the babe in her bed Brings her mother to peace But the storm overhead Makes the singing birds cease [chorus][scottish accent] I don’t want to watch the clouds go by I search for a corner to sit in and cry If God is real then his true grace has shown In the way that my crisis of faith has grown I’ve found that I can only heal when alone I break on the streets just like glass on a stone I dream to spread wings, toward the mountains I fly And the purple of moorlands against the old sky [verse 2][scottish accent] To the end of the road With the gates far behind With a burdensome load Of the damned and divine I seek to be free But freedom is pain In the age of a tree In a crying refrain [chorus][scottish accent] I don’t want to watch the clouds go by I search for a corner to sit in and cry If God is real then his true grace has shown In the way that my crisis of faith has grown I’ve found that I can only heal when alone I break on the streets just like glass on a stone I dream to spread wings, toward the mountains I fly And the purple of moorlands against the old sky [bridge][scottish accent] When I hear my mother call my name As the years go by it feels the same [key change] [chorus][scottish accent] I don’t want to watch the clouds go by I search for a corner to sit in and cry If God is real then his true grace has shown In the way that my crisis of faith has grown I’ve found that I can only heal when alone I break on the streets just like glass on a stone I dream to spread wings, toward the mountains I fly And the purple of moorlands against the old sky [outro, bagpipes]