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Boiled In Lead
Songs From The Gypsy
Raven, Owl, And I
Well, I haven't seen or heard from them in far too many years
But the banging from the copper pans still echoes in my ears.
We left the fires behind us, we followed a carriage track;
And I'll never see my brothers, but perhaps they made it back.
A scarf wound tight around my head to keep hair from my eyes;
My knife would cut deeper than I would realize.
Raven had his fiddle and Owl a tambourine;
I'd love to hear them play and tell them what I've seen.
I was dressed in yellow, my brothers in green and red.
I don't know what we heard I only know we fled.
Raven the hunter was content to stay and poach,
Owl wished to go back home, and I, to find the coach.
The coachman smiled down at me when he saw I was behind him.
He said, Your
brother
Raven
lives,
but
I
think
youll never find him.
And Owl still watches all around but he listens more than speaks
And hell
never
understand
that
it
isnt you he seeks."
He said, "You can go back home and never face the dangers
Or continue towards a life you will live among strangers."
His eyes softened for a time, I could barely hear his voice:
"It isnt
easy
to
decide
but
few
get
the
choice.
The city lights, they hurt my eyes the noises make me wince.
The coachman left me here which I've regretted ever since.
I'll never hear those songs again but still I sometimes cry
When I think of how we left our world, Raven, Owl, and I.