Being a child in the 70s and early 80s had a certain spookiness to it. Spirits seemed more readily available. I recall a homesickness which would haunt me even then, as if I were from another place entirely. Life's a mystery which childhood makes even worse, so let us revisit it in all its haunting creepiness.
Who are the "pocket pavilions"? I can find nothing more other than this one song, and it's a very good tune I really enjoy. Fire of Renewal