The Tain, Pt. III

They settled dust in your hair
To watch you shake and shout it out
With our armaments bared
We shed our bags and travel alls.

From the lee of the wall
He comes in chain and chariot
And all his eunuchs in thrall
Can scarce lift his line and lariat.

Here come loose the hounds
To blow me down.
Blow me down.
On this stretch of ground
I'll lay me down.
Lay me down.
To Sleep.

And now stricken with pangs
That tear at our backs like thistledown
The mirror? s soft silver tain
Reflects our last birthing hour.

Here come loose the hounds to blow me down
Blow me down.
On this stretch of ground
I'll lay me down
Lay me down.
To Sleep.