Ghosts of the Farmland- Download

Verse 1
Out in the fields as the daylight breaks,
Golden fur in the mist that wakes,
Long black ears in the morning air,
A silent shadow… the brown hare there.

Born of the land but not from old,
Brought by Romans, or so we’re told,
Now they roam through the countryside wide,
In hedgerow paths where they still reside.

Verse 2
No burrows dug like rabbits below,
Just a shallow “form” in grass they go,
Pressed to the earth, they disappear,
Till danger comes and they burst from near.

Powerful legs and a heart that dares,
Clocking speeds of forty-five miles with care,
Zig-zag racing through open land,
Outrunning threats with a single bound.

Pre-Chorus
Fifty to seventy centimetres long,
Two to five kilos, built lean and strong,
A life that’s short but fiercely free,
Just two to four years in the wild to be.

Chorus
Come with me to the fields so wide,
Where the brown hare runs with the turning tide,
Through farmland lines and open skies,
A fleeting glimpse before your eyes.

They’re ghosts of the land, so fast, so rare,
Blink and you’ll miss that brown hare there,
In RP Wild Travels, side by side,
We chase the wild where they still hide.

Verse 3
Springtime comes and the drama starts,
Boxing hares with their beating hearts,
Not just rivals in a fight for reign,
But females striking to ward off the chase again.

Through February to September’s end,
Life begins where the grasses bend,
Three or four litters a year they raise,
Tiny leverets in hidden lays.

Verse 4
Born with fur and their eyes wide bright,
Ready for life from the very first night,
Left alone in the grass so deep,
While mother returns in the dusk to feed.

Just once a day she will come their way,
To keep them safe by staying away,
A fragile life in a world so wild,
Every field holds a hidden child.

Chorus
Come with me to the fields so wide,
Where the brown hare runs with the turning tide,
Through farmland lines and open skies,
A fleeting glimpse before your eyes.

They’re ghosts of the land, so fast, so rare,
Blink and you’ll miss that brown hare there,
With Dora close and hearts untied,
Adventure calls on the countryside.

Bridge
Grass and crops are the food they know,
Bark in winter when cold winds blow,
Foxes hunt and the dangers grow,
Yet still they run where the wildflowers grow.

Across the UK they still remain,
But numbers fall on the farming plain,
Fields grow larger, hedges fade,
And quiet homes are slowly unmade.

Verse 5
From Scotland’s edges to England’s farms,
They live between the seasons’ arms,
Most alive in the early spring light,
When boxing hares bring fields to life.

A symbol of wild, of speed, of grace,
A fleeting spirit you can’t replace,
If you’re lucky, still and aware,
You’ll lock eyes with a watching hare.

Final Chorus
Come with me, don’t miss the sign,
Where wild hearts race through field and time,
Every hedgerow, every stare,
Could hold the magic of a brown hare.

They’re stories written in open land,
Not held, not tamed, not close at hand,
Just one quick flash—and then they’re gone,
But the memory stays, it carries on.

Outro
So walk the fields, tread soft and fair…
And maybe you’ll meet… a brown hare there.

(Whisper)
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