The Meeting of the Waters

She was sweet sixteen and never been kissed
And her eyes had never known tears
He’d be nineteen come this July
And he’d watched her bloom for years
Of all John Brennan’s girls
She was the most protected daughter
‘Till he whispered “come at Midnight
to the meeting of the waters”

The moon rose high above the hill
and cast it’s silvery beam
She heard the song of the nightingale
As she stepped along the stream
He kissed her there and led her
Like a lamb into the slaughter
And she gave away her virtue
At the Meeting of the Waters

John Brennan rose up a broken man
and raging to his son
While his daughter pleaded with him
Still, he went to fetch his gun
And he swore he’d make her lover pay for all the shame he brought her
And red the river ran into the Meeting of the Waters

And now the rain falls gently
on the eyes that never knew tears
She walks the field,she reaps the corn
And slowly go the years
And every sunday morning she leads her little daughter
And they lay their flowers in the stream
At the Meeting of the Waters

Drums – Russell Field, Bass – Brad Lang, Acoustic guitar – Phil Hudson, Piano – Liane Carroll