Part One - Missing presumed dead
Apparently Alec was missing presumed dead
at least that was what the obituary said
how then he got married is still a mystery
life after a very dark period of history
Jane plodded head down through another long day
solitude complete in a strange kind of way
while Kestrels are tacked to an untamed sky
she screams "Dear Lord wont you please tell me why"
young Alec stood well over six foot tall
legs full of shrapnell disfigured and all
willing to give all for a meagre days pay
a young man with half of his face blown away
Shepherdess Jane sat under sad twinkling stars
it was plain to see she had her own mental scars
the Ferryman's Daughter, she was so kind
different from the others, Jane was blind
when the bells of victory began to ring forth
it was too much for Alec, he headed up North
up to the North where the bronze fields shone
but Alec's old personality had gone
there in the North a young Shepherdess called Jane
did dry Alec's tears and soothed his deep pain
Her voice rolled over hills in a plaintive wave
as they assumed Alec lied in an unmarked grave
In time they married, Jane bore Alec a Son
but talk about the war, Alec would have none
all that he said was "between you and me..
I've seen things that no man should ever see"
flashbacks in his mind of the dead still ringing
offset by his young Wife's ethereal singing
somewhere around the Somme young Alec lay dead
at least that was what the obituary said.
Part Two - The Ferryman
The Ferryman vowed he would find his girl
he picked some roses to place in the top room
searched high and low to find his precious lost pearl
swore he would have her back before the flowers bloom
treated like a slave, a young girl in her prime
the Brothers got away Jane was left behind
her body it did whither through the passing of time
She was different from the others, Jane was blind
worked as a Milkmaid her hands would get so sore
under constant threats she still searched for the spark
work never done a family waits on the shore
although Jane was blind she could see in the dark
the moon shone bright on the path to the Ferry House
the gusts picked up on the night Jane ran away
salty wind and sea shanty's awakened the grouse
as Jane finally gets her break from the play
He scoured every square inch of the land
yet couldn't ask why? Or search into his past
at the Wayfarers Inn they'd got it all planned
released from a cruelty that could no longer last
the night the Father died Gaelic psalms they sang
a lonely house still stands like a watch to nature's will
when they buried the Ferryman the church bells rang
the flowers in the attic, they stand there still.
Part three - The Inn (recapitulation)
The Ferrymans lantern swung in the pouring rain
he heard that his Daughter had made it to the Inn
the audience sang to the Drovers refrain
midst discarded cigarettes, rolling dice and gin
Jane had long picked brambles from thorn covered vines
lived an intoned existence yet she had her plans
though Jane was blind she could read between the lines
a chance to escape, she grabbed it with both hands
the Inn's cosy light shone at the end of the lane
to Whiskey Jack, Jane's elopement had come to light
she had nothing to lose and everything to gain
Jane's now with Alec and has recieved her respite
see him dramming away yarns, bereft of what's true
then screaming his lies to the starry sky above
but tidal subtleties are demanding their due
his heart had long died to the trueness of love
the landlord played the piano and felt every note
the Ferryman's lantern swung in the pouring rain
given up his search, now in want of his boat
regular at the Inn but never seen again
he knew that yesterday would never come back
sailing aimlessly like a throw of the dice
he knew there would be no-one to take up the slack
the doomed Mariner paid the ultimate price.
On the North coast of Scotland on the Ard Neakie peninsular, there lies an old Ferry house, built before the road in 1830. Sadly it has long fallen into desuetude. On the other side of Loch Erribol lies the Wayfare Inn, now a holiday let. My imagination knows no bounds.
