Take her to the river, call her a river child.
Take her to the forest, call her a little wild.
Sell her to the gypsy for a jar of metal coins.
Take her to the mountain
and thrust yourself into her loins.
Calico, Calico, Calico, for her lips are white as snow.
She moved to the mountains,
with a box of chisels sharp.
She moved to the highlands,
with a box of books so dark.
I knew her, in the city,
She and I would dance the night,
drink the wine of dripping berries,
toast the moon and count the lights.
Calico, Calico, Calico, for her skin is soft as snow
Take her to the river, call her a river child
Take her, to the forest, call her a little wild.
supported by 12 fans who also own “The Saga of Mayflower May”
i heard The Waves Have Come years ago and ever since it's had a special place in my heart. A few weeks ago i finally listened to the entire album and i just loved it so much! Feral Love sometimes just hits the spot. Intense and beautiful! vivian_dk