The Sons Of Robert Mitchum - A Song For Ella lyrics

The moon was full and had climbed so high,

Stained with silver and despair

Its’ light reflecting off your Arctic skin,

As it wandered through your auburn hair

And the wind is jealous of your voice

The story flowed through your vein of love,

Down to the emptiness on your left hand

Forget-me-nots caressed your soles,

As you made your way along the broken strand

And the sea is jealous of your tears

And though I find no sanctuary,

I can always dream my way back to you

In so many varied, tainted themes,

Of those first 8 letters that I wrote you true,

And I am jealous of your world

Though I still might search in the crowd,

For a scent of your perfume

As rumours spread

Like a mountain brushwood fire,

Ah the brittle fate of me and you

And I am jealous of your world