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Paper Bird
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Dead As A Dead Man's Bones
(*Paul DeHaven and Esmé Patterson)
Now if the wind blow o'er the plains and the prairie
Knocking you off of your horse,
Just hear in the pit of your soul 'don't grow weary',
The shadow of an echo of a curse.
And oh, how the skies they bless your intentions
And otherwise shave your resolve.
The crossing is long, be you humble or tall,
The castle's not far in the distance.
No, you won't be bothered,
No, you won't be ushered forth and away
If ever you're weary, cold tired as stone,
Dead as a dead man's bones,
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Just pick up your laces, your belt and your collar,
Approach the queen's youngest daughter and
Ask her with eyes low, your hands at your sides for
Shelter, for someone to love.
She in her red gown is bound to approve of
Your rags and your arms open wide.
No, you won't be bothered,
No, you won't be ushered forth and away
Leave some light in the night and come find me there
Beneath the leaves and the limb.
Leave some dark in the dawn and bury me there
In a robe of gold-green and a grin.
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