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The Decemberists - The Tain Lyrics

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  • PART I
  • crone: here upon this pillow
  • made of reed and willow
  • you're a fickle little twister
  • are you sweet on your sister?
  • your fallow won't leave you alone.
  • and granted for their pleasure
  • possesions laid to measure
  • she's a salty little pisser
  • with your ***** in her kisser
  • but now she's a will of her own.
  • PART II
  • husband: damn your ankles and eyes wide
  • from you fingernails to your ponytails too.
  • king of the insects and the m-5
  • over charlemagne in a motorcade too.
  • and baby needs a new prize
  • baby needs a new and shiny prize.
  • captain: in this place called heavenly
  • you were born here.
  • this place called heavenly
  • you were born here.
  • you were born here.
  • husband: and now all the marchers descend from high
  • i will dedicate all of my awakenings to this.
  • and damn all the angles that opress my sight
  • i will bleed your heart through a samovar soon.
  • captain: in this place called heavenly
  • you were born here.
  • this place called heavenly
  • you were born here.
  • you were born here.
  • PART III
  • soldier: 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 the chang and the chariot
  • and all his eunuchs in thrall
  • can scarce lift his line and lariat.
  • here com loose his hounds
  • to blow me down.
  • chorus of waifs: blow me down.
  • soldier: on this stretch of ground
  • i'll lay me down.
  • chorus of waifs: lay me down.
  • soldier: to sleep.
  • chaplain: and now stricken with pangs
  • that tear at our backs like thistle down
  • the mirror's soft silver tain
  • reflects our last and birthing hour
  • soldier: here com loose his hounds
  • to blow me down.
  • chorus of waifs: blow me down.
  • soldier: on this stretch of ground
  • i'll lay me down.
  • chorus of waifs: lay me down.
  • soldier: to sleep.
  • PART IV
  • evening
  • widow: o the wind is blowing, it hurts your skin
  • as you climb up hillside, forest and fen.
  • your arms full of lullabies, orchids and wine
  • your memories wrapped within paper and twine.
  • the room that you lie in is dusty and hard
  • sleeping soft babies on piles of yards
  • of gingham, taffeta, cotton and silk
  • your dry hungry mouths cry for your mother's milk.
  • when the dawn commes to greet you, you'll rise with clothes on
  • and advance with the others, singing old songs
  • of cattle and maidens and withered old queens.
  • let the music carry you on.
  • the room that you lie in is dusty and hard
  • sleeping soft babies on piles of yards
  • of gingham, taffeta, cotton and silk
  • your dry hungry mouths cry for your mother's milk.
  • PART V
  • woman: darling dear what have you done?
  • your clothes are town, your make-up runs.
  • daughter: i ran through brambles, blooming thistle
  • i washed my face in the river when you whistled me on.
  • woman: darling dear, what hav eyou done?
  • your hands and face are smeared with blood.
  • daughter: the chaplain came and called me out
  • to beat and to butcher his mother's sow
  • woman: but darling dear, they found him dead
  • this morning on the riverbed.
  • but hush now darling, don't you cry.
  • your reward's in the sweet by-and -by.
  • hush now baby, don't you cry.
  • your reward's in the sweet by-and-by.
  • crone: and now we've seen your powers
  • softly stretch the hours
  • you're a fickle little twister
  • are you sweet on your sister?
  • as now you go wandering home.

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