Photographs Of Ghosts album

The Whispering Wind (McDonnell)

You stand by the window
In the gathering dusk
And I cannot reach you
Do to feel my touch?
The blossoms of Springtime
Will not come again
The end of September
She would have been ten

Well the lives that we have shared now seem in vain
This world is small now and the colours have changed
Across the valley when the harvest comes in
I’ll still hear her calling. In the whispering wind

You go to her bedroom
And lay out her dress
Flowers of crimson
She’ll wear to her rest
The blood of a daughter
Forever this age
Shot by a stranger
Lost, to confusion and rage

When the sun is on the meadow she will be there
Grass in her fingers. The wind in her hair
Carry her home now, her bones and her skin – to me
Carry her laughter on the whispering wind


Phil McDonnell - Vocals, keyboards, drums
Tim Palmer - Guitars, Bass
Dan Maitland - Acoustic guitar