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Lyrics
CATALOG OF WOES:
Well, woe betide the child, yes, woe betide the child, now,
Woe betide the child my lord.
Between the devil and the deep, only grief and troubled sleep, my lord.
Cause the suffering ain't gone down, no the suffering ain't gone down,
No, the suffering ain't gone down my lord.
See, the ballast does ascend from the misery on the other end, my lord.
Who will don the bramble crown? Who will done the bramble crown?
Who will don the bramble crown, my lord?
See, you ain't the only one: They've all forsaken all their sons, my lord.
We tear our clothes, we wail our woes, we shear our heads in the rain.
But above the stormclouds, the vaults are silent, and in heaven nothing has changed.
Alackaday! Alacka-liege! Alacka-deity! Selah! Selah!
Have you seen my empty hand? Have you seen my empty hand?
Have you seen my empty hand, my lord?
Since I submitted to the geld, I can't remember what I held, my lord.
But it's the wormwood and the gall, it's the wormwood and the gall,
It's the wormwood and the gall, my lord.
Now my house is black and hollow, it's a bitter pill to swallow, my lord.
And the ordure's in the court, yes, the ordure's in the court,
Yes, the ordure's in the court, my lord.
In the atavistic halls, heads do roll when gavels fall, my lord.
We tear our clothes, we wail our woes, we shear our heads in the rain.
But above the stormclouds, the vaults are silent, and in heaven nothing has changed.
Alackaday! Alacka-liege! Alacka-deity! Selah! Selah!
Every mountain's caving in...
Michael Bradley @2002 FurnaceSongs
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