Mole performs this on harp at Renaissance Faires, but thought he'd give it the Sleepy Hollow treatment to bring some of his new musical direction onto the new album. Joe added some fantastic (sampled) oboe - the harp and oboe duet at the end of the acoustic section is possibly our most magical musical creation. Mrs. Dell and NJ Ren Kingdom's Christina Kirk join us for the refrain. The Lazarus edit removes the central folk section.

Mole - vocals, acoustic and electric guitars, harp, flutes
Christina Kirk - vocals
Annie Dell - vocals
Joe - keys, organ, synthesizer oboe, bass guitar
Gary - drums

Lyrics

.
.
SORROW'S MIGHT - 13:11

Christina and her mother laid gold upon the bier
(Who plucks the leaves from the lily stem?)
The maiden wept in sorrow -Ah, dead her love so dear
(Ah, ye are bright and joyous ever)

Who now with gentle fingers is knocking at my door?
Christina rise and open unto me I implore!

My hand to none is promised as long as I am free
To no-one I'll give entrance in dead of night to me

Oh rise and open quickly and have of me no fear
Thy love, oh my Christina, is standing waiting here!

He scarce the words had spoken, she stay'd to hear no more
But left her bed then quickly and opened wide the door

Christina drew her lover towards the golden shrine
She knelt and wash'd his feet there, with clear and sparkling wine

Within her little chamber for many hours sate they
And talked of love together till midnight waned away

Ah! Morn's already dawning, Hark, love, the cock doth crow
The time has come, when, dear one, the dead to rest must go

Then drew the maid Christina her shoes upon her feet
And followed through the forest her love with footsteps fleet

At last, within the churchyard, both, hand-in-hand, stood they
His hair so thick and golden had fallen quite away

Christina, love, look yonder, how pure the moon's soft light
She scarce had turned, her lover had vanished from her sight

She sat upon his grave then "here will I stay, oh love"
Till God my woe doth pity and call my soul above

Hark! Loudly, clearly rang then the youth's voice in the air
My only love, I pray thee, ah - sit not weeping there

For every tear of anguish which from thine eye doth start
Sinks in my place of resting and fills with pain my heart

And every joyous moment which banishes thy care
Ah' Fills my lonely coffin with roses sweet and fair!