about
Built over a notorious post-punk bass and a desperate poem,
“The Moated Grange” is a phantasmagoric ballad with edgy echoes from the early goth rock bands. This mix preserves the original 2007 bass take, courtesy of Miguel. M.Madrid.
lyrics
With blackest moss the flower-plots
Were thickly crusted, one and all:
The rusted nails fell from the knots
That held the pear to the gable wall.
The broken sheds look'd sad and strange:
Unlifted was the clinking latch;
Weeded and worn the ancient thatch
Upon the lonely moated grange.
When the night was falling
and the sun was down
then all the spirits walking
all around
"My life is dreary,
There was no one else
who will dare to be
awake to tell
what I was to see
Upon the midnight
Her tears fell with the dews at even;
Her tears fell ere the dews were dried;
She could not look on the sweet heaven,
Either at morn or eventide.
After the flitting of the bats,
When thickest dark did trance the sky,
She drew her casement-curtain by,
And glanced athwart the glooming flats.
She only said, "The night is dreary,
He cometh not," she said;
She said, "I am aweary, aweary,
I would that I were dead!"
upon the midnight
Upon the middle of the night,
Waking she heard the night fowl crow:
The cock sung out an hour ere light:
From the dark fen the oxen's low
Came to her: without hope of change,
In sleep, she seemed to walk forlorn,
Till cold winds woke the gray-eyed morn
About the lonely moated grange.
She said, "I am aweary,
credits
license
all rights reserved