Lucy's Bay. (Based on the story of the same name by Gary Crew)

Out on the river bank
on the edge of town,
it was there I stopped to rest a while
it was there that I sat down.
And when I saw the finest seeds
of silk settle just like snow,

I slowly stood and held my breath
for I knew where I had to go.

Past the rocks and tidal pools
where hermit crabs are found,
where a haunted wind blows
through the reeds,
a distant ghost like sound,
past the trees where finches sing
it was there I found my way
beyond the cliffs of iron red
to the shores of Lucy's Bay.

CHORUS.

And I saw the palm trees growing wild,
their leaves bowed down in shame.
And I saw the pool where she had played and the monument for her name.
And I turned my head to face the west and the sea that took her away.
I saw it all with my head bowed down from the shores of
Lucy's Bay.

I knelt down by the sandy shore
where the wind had carried seeds,
with their silken touch as soft as snow
they had blown down from the reeds.
I picked them up and blew them high, they reminded me of rain.
As I watched them vanish out to sea
I called out Lucy's name.

CHORUS.

So many times I've heard her voice
calling through the years.
A distant cry lost in the night
upon a sea of tears.

And I saw the palm trees growing wild,
their leaves bowed down in shame.
And I saw the pool where she had played and the monument for her name.
Then I turned my head to walk back home knowing I'd return some day,
grateful I could face the tides from the shores of Lucy's Bay.

 

Words and music by C.Dawson. Scotts Head. February 1996.

 

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