I liked that one too but didn’t want to bury you in versions.
:D
I “collect” versions of The House Of The Rising Sun.
One Friday night at the yearly crab & chicken feed, my biker friends’ bluegrass band suddenly struck up HOTR.
I had my back to the pavilion in that dark, backwoods campground and I was sitting on the ground with my dog.
I was watching the waxing harvest moon shadow playing with the black mountains behind my old log house, just across the road.
As the song played, I had a weird transcendent moment where the scattered camp fires of the bikers looked like what my hillbilly kin would have had, at a gathering.
The paved road appeared as a dirt wagon trail in the moonlight.
The band tore my heart out with that eerie yet very real reconnection to my past.
I could feel the souls of my kith and kin around me.
[I went all “Lo, there do I see the line of my people, back to the beginning....”]
When the song ended, I felt unbidden tears running down my face.
I knew that *that moment* was A Thing and that nothing would ever be the same or as good, again.
Five days later, the towers fell.
I can still close my eyes and see, hear and feel it, as if it was happening right now.
It was a great gift given to me.
My friends’ band...my dear friend Jeff is the guy on the right in the black hat.
Gramma’s Ass.
:D
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nn7UFqAZ-U0