Lyrics
She drums her fingers on the windowsillAnd glances out at the far dark hillSomething makes her hesitateThen turn back to the cup and plateWhat’s that music in my earRunning deep and running clear?(It’s a song I can almost hear)Something moves from North to SouthTo the river’s mouthBehind his desk he’s grey and tiredWhile suns explode and stars inspireHe said, “All my fury has been spentWhether by design or accident”The old man’s family is bowed in griefWhile his spirit dives off the barrier reefHe said, “I don’t want to step on your muddy banksYour tangled grasses – Oh no thanks”So hurl your spears and set your lairsBut you’d better aim with deadly careFor if you don’t, I may yet evadeThe hangman’s noose and the hunter’s blade