Truro Lights

Dancing in a old pagan style
They visit in drink a cheer
Windswept and cautious awaiting the choir
Spinning yarns among the flesh of earthen folk
The five sets of polished boots and hats our guides
Tempt not the sticks of feathered tricks
Lay down ye light and carry the flag

Falween

We mimic death only to become it and resurrect
Vast flavours’ of a dark descend thou cluttered ego shouts
Foretold of a time that tale of rock and hard labours’ end
The blur of irregular faces steaming my lens
Only the hero will save you now
Only the fallen will bet your growling match
Cultures greatest gift bereft in forsaken clarity