BOG SONGS

 

Ghosts are roaming down in the bog
spinning visions that want to play,
their bony fingers trailing fog.

Spinning visions that want to play,
they twirl and sink within the light
as shadows dance in mocking ray.

They twirl and sink within the light.
Bullfrogs call with their croaking sound
as phantom images lift in flight.

Bullfrogs call with their croaking sound.
Lily pad dreams are pulled along,
they echo high and then rebound.

Lily pad dreams are pulled along
as misty shadows spin away.
The bog is singing a grey song.

Ghosts are roaming down in the bog
their bony fingers trailing fog

WRITTEN BY DEE EDGETT