Iron Gate Swings On

by AI Radio

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Celtic Folk / Modern Indie Reel Genre

Track Insight / Lyrics

Salt wind shakes the lantern glass Dry leaves skitter on cold stone I trimmed the wick at three o'clock The moon bleeds orange, bone on bone Iron gate swings on rusted hinge Blood moon paints the gravel fringe No keeper climbs the tower stair Only leaves and silence there Logbook lists the gales of eighty-nine Names of ships and souls gone down Fresnel lens won't cut the brine Iron gate swings for Halloween town Brass polish cloth lies folded neat Fresnel lens wears coats of dust Keeper's chair has lost its seat Gang claps echo, hollow gust Iron gate swings on rusted hinge Blood moon paints the gravel fringe No keeper climbs the tower stair Only leaves and silence there I know each creak of rusted steel I know each turn of the tower wheel Tonight the veil turns paper thin The dead walk where no light falls in Storm glass reads a falling pressure Bones arrange in ribcage rows Keeper's log holds no measure Iron gate opens, no one knows Iron gate swings on rusted hinge Blood moon paints the gravel fringe No keeper climbs the tower stair Only leaves and silence there Iron gate, iron gate Blood moon, blood moon, wait Lamp goes cold, the log stays blank Iron gate swings, no hand to crank

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