After I heard what Mark did with a BT (I send him) and a beautiful poem Sandra wrote, I asked If he would let me join in a collab. I added some lead work. Let's not forget Marks awsome guitar work on this one He played rhythm and some of the leads!
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I'm still amazed with Mark's way of putting Sandra's poem into this song.
OLD MAN
He's bent to face the coming tide of life -
Heeds not the wind, still less the raging sea,
He stares with gull-blessed crags into the spray,
And never hears the cries of swooping shags.
I thought I saw a blink, a tear of foam,
Form in the sightless eye where puffins nest,
I thought I heard him moan unto the sky,
That he might be released and put to sleep.
But only screeching gulls, percussive tides
Accompany the winds relentless howl -
He's ever silent both within, without,
A respite from this fearsome lonely place.
He's bent to face the coming tide of life,
Leans hard upon his stick and feels his way,
That's only salt tears dampening his face,
The tide has long receded from his land.
© Sandra Patterson 28/02/2007