On Raglan Road on an Autumn Day
I saw her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare
That I may one day rue
I saw the danger and I passed
Along the enchanted way
And I said let grief be a fallen leaf
At the dawning of the day
On Grafton Street in November
We tripped lightly along the ledge
Of a deep ravine where can be seen
The worst of passions pledged
The Queen of Hearts still baking tarts
And I not making hay
Well I loved too much and by such by such
Is happiness thrown away
I gave her the gifts of the mind
I gave her the secret sign
That is known to the artists who have know
The true Gods of sound and stone
With word and tint I did not stint
I gave her poems to say
With her own dark hair and her own name there
Like the clouds over fields of May
On a quiet street where old ghosts meet
I see her walking now
Away from me so hurriedly
My reason must allow
For I have wooed not as I should
A creature made of clay
When the angel woos the clay he'll lose
His wings at the dawn of the day
On the first new High Llamas record in 6 years, Sean O’Hagan creates abstract tracks that reflect the kaleidoscopic palette of modern pop. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 13, 2024