The time has come
The end is nigh
Come sweet magic
Fly away, fly..
All the eggs are leaving their basket
Carry me away in a wicker casket
Float me gently down the stream
Merrily, merrily, this is no dream
The death of fertility comes with a sigh
No more twinkles in their fathers' eyes
And I who once was so forgiving
Bid adieu to the Queendom of Living
My grandmother's eggs and her mothers' too
Carried my patterns in prints of deep blue
She was no sucker, would take no nonsense
And yet, and yet .. the stories she told us...
In the womb the children come and go
We searched for them high and sought them low
Knew all the while that the schedule was restricted
Only those in the know, knew how to read it.
We looked to the stars and prayed for a reason
Cried for the moon, her bindings to loosen.
We hoped for a miracle, paid cash for a glimmer
Should we turn up the heat or just let it simmer?
In the womb the children come and go
We seek them high, we feel so low
My children's voices, our children's songs
Reverberate and echo through constellations.
Fiery lights that once burned bright
Can no longer hope to draw the night
And yet, I still hear their distant voice
Our cosmic ties leave me with no choice.
Now Luna turns her face from me
And I'm falling, dragged down to my knees
Pleading for another chance, just one
Before this bloody moon is gone.
An ache ripples dread around my heart
Pulls at the strings, rips soul apart
Is there any way I can have just a little more time?
Can the dream of three ever truly be mine?
My body pushes away from the spine
Pulls at the tendons and bindings divine
Tears flesh as tears fall in silent refrain
How will I ever feel whole again?
Red heat abounds, makes a deafening roar
Knows that the future can be no more
What we imagined and hoped it to be
Three and four magpies have flown from the tree.
The end is nigh
Come sweet magic
Fly away, fly..
All the eggs are leaving their basket
Carry me away in a wicker casket
Float me gently down the stream
Merrily, merrily, this is no dream
The death of fertility comes with a sigh
No more twinkles in their fathers' eyes
And I who once was so forgiving
Bid adieu to the Queendom of Living
My grandmother's eggs and her mothers' too
Carried my patterns in prints of deep blue
She was no sucker, would take no nonsense
And yet, and yet .. the stories she told us...
In the womb the children come and go
We searched for them high and sought them low
Knew all the while that the schedule was restricted
Only those in the know, knew how to read it.
We looked to the stars and prayed for a reason
Cried for the moon, her bindings to loosen.
We hoped for a miracle, paid cash for a glimmer
Should we turn up the heat or just let it simmer?
In the womb the children come and go
We seek them high, we feel so low
My children's voices, our children's songs
Reverberate and echo through constellations.
Fiery lights that once burned bright
Can no longer hope to draw the night
And yet, I still hear their distant voice
Our cosmic ties leave me with no choice.
Now Luna turns her face from me
And I'm falling, dragged down to my knees
Pleading for another chance, just one
Before this bloody moon is gone.
An ache ripples dread around my heart
Pulls at the strings, rips soul apart
Is there any way I can have just a little more time?
Can the dream of three ever truly be mine?
My body pushes away from the spine
Pulls at the tendons and bindings divine
Tears flesh as tears fall in silent refrain
How will I ever feel whole again?
Red heat abounds, makes a deafening roar
Knows that the future can be no more
What we imagined and hoped it to be
Three and four magpies have flown from the tree.
