The 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 goOne comes with winter's wind

To tell a tale of mourning

One free as summer's sin

To tell a tale of mourningSpinning around in circles everyday

Spinning around and finding no new way

Spinning around, spinning around they say

I wish them all dead anywaySo sing the poets then

I know now why they sing so

So go they sorrow's friends

I know now where they do go