I am stretched on your grave
And will lie there for ever.
If your hands were in mine
I'd be sure we'd not sever.

My apple tree, my brightness,
It's time we were together
For I smell of the earth
And am worn by the weather

When my family thinks
That I'm safe in my bed
From night until morning
I am stretched at you head.

Calling out to the air
With tears hot and wild
My grief for the girl
That I loved as a child.

Do you remember
The night we were lost
In the shade of the blackthorn
And the chill of the frost.

Oh, thanks be to Jesus
We did what was right
And your maidenhead still
Is your pillar of light.

The priest and the friars
Approach me in dread.
Because I still love you
My life and you're dead.

I still would be your shelter
Through rain and through storm
And with you in your cold grave
I cannot sleep warm.

So I'm stretched on your grave
And will lie there for ever
If your hands were in mine
I'd be sure we'd not sever.

My apple tree, my brightness
It's time we were together
For I smell of the earth
And am worn by the weather.

Appears on the CD 'Hollywood' by the Voice Squad - Hummingbird Records HB CD 0002
In his notes, Frank Harte writes: The words of this song are a translation of an anonymous poem in Irish called 'Taim sinte ar do thuama'. The singer Phillip King (producer of 'Bringing It All Back Home' and 'River of Sound') put this air to the poem which I believe brings out so clearly, the sadness and loneliness expressed by the poet.'

HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 1-Oct-02.