Robin Pecknold
Derwentwater Stones
Midnight in the swaying leaves
Midnight in the field
And the moon is like a sheet
Covering the shield

And you told me come along
Carrying away
To the Derwentwater stones
And I know the place

All the faces in the moss
Look like those I've known
Or like bruises on the rocks
On the broken stone

And the voices speak to me
And the faces change
And the rhododendron seeds
Bloom and stain the range

And you tell me to be good
Now I'm on my own
Through the red and auburn wood
To the broken stone

Midnight in the swaying leaves
Midnight in the field
And the moon is like a sheet
Covering the shield