Stones

by John Dowling

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lyrics

STONES

Who’s that knocking at my door again
One, two, three at four AM
I don’t ask him but he comes on in
To see

He sits right down in my kitchen chair
Draws his fingers through his thin white hair
He’s got something that he’s going to share
With me

He says son ain’t you been to bed
Your hair’s a mess and your eyes are red

Let’s go beyond the old millpond
Where the water runs deep and slow
Those stones will drown your bones
If you don’t let them go

Your face is worn and the color’s all gone
The fire’s out and the curtains are drawn
Glass is scattered all around
Like rain

You’ve been grieving such a long, long time
Are you here or are you dieing
When you can’t live with what’s behind
The pain

Spirits lurking round your cabin door
Drawing you towards the other shore

CHORUS

Ah son don’t let memories
Draw you down to eternity

CHORUS

Who’s that knocking at my door again
One, two, three at four AM
I don’t ask him but he comes on in
Anyway

credits

released July 15, 2016

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about

John Dowling Dalkeith, Ontario

A rural renaissance man wringing musical tales and tractor poetry out of the swamps and forests of Glengarry Ontario

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