Woven Hand - Last First Тексты

What are you about?
Say something secret in an old order hush
Trouble and suffering in a lovely rhythm
A homespun clapboard, black strap thrush

Devoted loyal, undertake the toil
Beware of what comes natural
Undertake the spoil
In a fist

It was cruel and it came all too natural
As a younger child
A headstrong folklore, straw rifle crutch
Thresh a crop defile

Devoted loyal, undertake the toil
Beware of what come natural
In a fist full of sand
It came natural in a fist full of land