my head Hang my head low And I will hang my head Hang my head low A gray sky, a bitter sting A rain cloud, a crane on wing All out beyond horizon A
And under the bowsunbelle I'll hold in the snowy shroud She had no heart so hardened All under the bowsunbelle Each feather it fell from skin 'Till thread
Fordítás: A Decemberists. A Crane Wife 3.
And under the bowsunbelle I'll hold in the snowy shroud She had no heart so hardened All under the bowsunbelle Each feather it fell from skin 'Till
: And under the bowsunbelle I'll hold in the snowy shroud She had no heart so hardened All under the bowsunbelle Each feather it fell from skin 'Till
