Our Mother the Mountain - Nate Hall, Dorthia Cottrell

My lover comes to me with a rose on her bosom

The moon’s dancin' purple all through her black hair

And her ladies-in-waiting, she’ll stand 'neath my window

And the sun will rise soon on the false and the fair

Sing a-to Lorelei-oh

She tells me she comes from my mother the mountain

And her skin fits her tightly and her lips do not lie

She silently slips from her throat a medallion

Slowly she twirls it in front of my eyes

Sing a-to Lorelei-oh

I watch her, I love her, and I long for to touch her

The satin she’s wearin' is shimmering blue

And outside my window her ladies are sleeping

My dogs are gone hunting, their howling is through

Sing a-to Lorelei-oh

So I reach for her hand and her eyes turn to poison

And her hair turns to splinters and her flesh turns to brine

She leaps 'cross the room, she stands in the window

Screams that my first-born will surely be blind

Sing a-to a-Lorelei-oh

And she throws herself out to the black of the nightfall

She’s parted her lips but she makes not a sound

I fly down the stairway and I run to the garden

No trace of my true love is there to be found

Sing a-to a-Lorelei-oh

So walk these hills lightly, and watch who you’re lovin'

By mother the mountain I swear that it’s true

And love not a woman with hair black as midnight

And her dress made of satin all shimmering blue

Sing a-to a-Lorelei-oh

Ah my lover comes to me with a rose on her bosom

The moon’s dancin' purple all through her black hair

And her ladies-in-waiting she’ll stand 'neath my window

And the sun will rise soon on the false and the fair