Lush Anansi Tales

Old Hallows

The day of the dead,
When the year also dies,
And my dear, what a year to thread,
On the shores my ancestors bled.
Too long, too long,
Have I tasted the sea salt,
In my lungs,
Too long have I felt,
The spirits who have weeped,
For me.
On the morrow is the day of souls,
On the morrow we shall pray,
But tonight I danced,
Tonight my spirit flew free.
Old Hallows,
Eve.
Old Hallows,
Me.