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alice in black - the crow's roost كلمات أغنية

follow me, gaze upon my garden
it’s rather quaint and small, but i’m proud of
the way my flowers are now in bloom
you can scowl, or you can come join me
beneath this cherry tree and enjoy all of
the flowers i’ve cultivated

but don’t be so surprised when the crow returns to roost
i’m rather ashamed of the fingers in her beak
fingers that were long chewed off by the big bad wolf
she caws and caws and caws ’til the dawn of my last breath
but i know better than to believe that i can
sew these rotting fingers back onto my warm hands

i’m alone; my lifelong companion, a crow that is hungry
i see her eyes sizing up my last seven fingers
so don’t be so surprised when the crow returns to roost
i’m rather ashamed of the fingers in her beak
fingers that were long chewed off by the big bad wolf
she caws and caws and caws ’til the dawn of my last breath
but i know better than to believe that i can
sew these rotting fingers back onto my warm hands

i can see all of their black silhouettes
she has brought her friends, but i don’t intend to open the door
i see my fingers in her beak, bleeding and without black rot
just as they looked when the wolf had bitten them off
but i’m onto all of her tricks and illusions
still, i cannot bear this siren’s song
please just bind me to the mast
otherwise i fear that i will follow her lead
into the trap that she has set for my foreseen relapse
i swear that i’m getting better
but i feel her beady eyes watching me at every turn
and no matter what i try to do
i know that she will always come back to me
whenever she feels like she needs
a new place to roost for the night ahead

(from childhood’s hour i have not been
as others were—i have not seen
as others saw—i could not bring
my passions from a common spring—
from the same source i have not taken
my sorrow—i could not awaken
my heart to joy at the same tone—
and all i lov’d—i lov’d alone—
then—in my childhood—in the dawn
of a most stormy life—was drawn
from ev’ry depth of good and ill
the mystery which binds me still—
from the torrent, or the fountain—
from the red cliff of the mountain—
from the sun that ’round me roll’d
in its autumn tint of gold—
from the lightning in the sky
as it pass’d me flying by—
from the thunder, and the storm—
and the cloud that took the form
(when the rest of heaven was blue)
of a demon in my view—)

- alice in black

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