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The Crane Wife 3
by
The Decemberists
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And under the boughs unbowed All clothed in the snowy shroud She had no heart so hardened All under the boughs unbowed Each feather it fell from skin 'Til thread bare while she grew thin How were my eyes so blinded? Each feather it fell from skin And I will hang my head, hang my head low And I will hang my head, hang my head low A grey sky, a bitter sting A rain cloud, a crane on wing All out beyond horizon A grey sky, a bitter sting And I will hang my head, hang my head low And I will hang my head, hang my head low And I will hang my head, hang my head low And I will hang my head, hang my head low And I will hang my head, hang my head low And I will hang my head, hang my head low, low, low
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