Four Strings Of Mourning

Some tales say morrow knows, I know not why they say so, 

some go where sorrow goes, I know not

where they do go



One comes with winter's wind to tell a tale of mourning, 

one free as summer's sin, to tell

a tale of mourning



Spinning around in circles every day, 

spinning around and finding no new way

Spinning around, spinning around they say, 

I wish them all dead anyway



So sing the poets then, I know now why they sing so, 

so go they sorrow's friends, I know now

where they do go



One comes with autumn's rain and sings a song of mourning, 

one sets the spring aflame

And sings a song of mourning



Spnning around in circles every day, spinning around and finding no new way

Spinning around, spinning around they say, I wish they all could go away