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wych elm - field crow lyrics

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i’ve grown feathers
my nails rot off
my fingers
and i’ve grown talons
i become a field crow
i flew down to ask you a riddle

throw the weakest
out of the nest
pluck the feathers
from my breast
i’m the mother
in distress
i’m the daughter
you’ll detest

i’m the daughter
you’ll regret
i’m the daughter
you’ll regret
i’m the daughter
you’ll regret

throw the weakest
out of the nеst
pluck the feathers
from my brеast
i’m the mother
in distress
i’m the daughter
you’ll detest
i’m the daughter
you’ll regret
i’m the daughter
you’ll regret
i’m the daughter
you’ll regret

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