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Welcome to the online home of Philip Butler, Natasha Tranter & associated musicians; purveyors of modern English folk and other tall tales.......

They crept out at dawn
To see the snow
Crept out at dawn
Upon tip toe
It floated through the air
Latching onto their hair

The birds whispered too them
The garden's frozen
The trees are sleeping
It’s no place for commotion
We'll lead you back
Lead you back home again
For return you must
Return from whence thou came

Took a short cut
Across the lake
The ice under foot
Started to break
Crept out at dawn
To see the snow
Told not a sole
Where they would go

And the trees whispered to them
Now you’re frozen
You’re both sleeping
Free from emotion

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Last updated: 23/12/10