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Reunion Hill - Richard Shindell



     
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Reunion Hill Lyrics


Mustve been in late September
When last I climbed Reunion Hill
I fell asleep on Indian Boulder
And dreamed a dream I will not tell
I came home as the sun went down
One eye trained upon the ground
Even now I find their things
Glasses, coins, and golden ringsIts ten years since that ragged army
Limped across these fields of mine
I gave them bread, I gave them brandy
But most of all I gave them time
My well is deep, the water pure
The streams are fed by mountain lakes
I cleaned the brow of many a soldier
Dousing for my husbands faceI wont forget our sad farewell
And how I ran to climb that hill
Just to watch him walk across the valley
And disappear into the treesAlong there in a sea of blue

It circles every afternoon
A single hawk in Gods great sky
Looking down with Gods own eyes
He soars above Reunion Hill
I pray he spiral higher still
As if from such an altitude
He might just keep our love in view

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Richard Shindell (born 1960, Lakehurst, New Jersey) is an American folk singer. He currently lives in Buenos Aires, Argentina with his wife and their children. Shindell's songwriting often involves storytelling from a first-person point of view: from an INS officer and illegal immigrant in "Fishing", to a World War II soldier in "Sparrows Point", to a Confederate drummerboy in "Arrowhead", to an Argentine grandmother of Plaza de Mayo in "Abuelita", to a power broker in "Confession".

Read more about Richard Shindell on Last.fm.


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Richard Shindell