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Sing high, sing cold. |
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A carrion crow sat upon a dead oak. |
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Sing high, sing cold. It sang about an arrow's mark and terrible woe. |
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A man took offense to the song so bitter and cold. |
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"Don't you know that I walk upon the highest road?" |
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Go fetch me my old bent bow. |
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So I may shoot you, carrion crow. |
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Sing high, sing cold. |
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The man took aim with his old bent bow. |
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Beneath my feet you shall go, carrion crow. |
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The man shot and missed his mark. |
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Shot his own wife through the heart. |
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Carrion crow sat upon dead oak. |
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Singing high, singing cold. |
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Beneath my feet you may go, |
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and soon you won't walk alone. |
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You won't walk alone. |
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Beneath my feet you may go, |
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and soon you won't walk alone. |
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The bells did ring, the bells did toll |
