There are many Cornish folk tales telling of the Sirens that would appear in the form of mermaids and entice unwary fishermen onto the rocks and damnation. As a result of these stories many innocent women were hunted down and put to death to try to make the fishermen safe. Others would take there own lives to avoid the torture and ultimate pain and humiliation of being identified as a Siren of the seas.

Thanks to Javolenus for the 12 string guitars and to Uyanga Bold for the beautiful additional vocals



Well I met you at the waters edge you were talking to the waves
On your head you wore a crimson hat you were so well behaved
And you pointed out the island that was 15 miles off shore
Where the monks would walk in silence upon the concrete floors

In the last remnents of evening time you took my shaking hand
And placed it on your tender breast I failed to understand
Then you asked if I could feel the beat the moving of the days
To which I replied with silence and chose to slip away

On the 15th of September near the rocks by Gullys cove
They found her naked body all her innocence exposed
And the hearts of Cornish fishermen beat easier that night
In the knowledge that the maid of death of life was now denied

When autumn turns to winter and the tides are full of rage
I will walk along the coastline to the place they made your grave
And with simple words I’ll thank you for the guiding light you gave
You were always chasing fury
But you were alway well behaved