Sometimes, I wish I could take a hold of Death’s scrawny neck.
I’ll kick his skull off and hang his spine on a rack,
I’ll break his knees and use his scythe like a harvest sickle to turn his bones to meal.
Of all the people I love, he chose your soul to steal.
The words are never enough to tell of how you healed me.
You were peace, when the voices sang. You were guidance when my roads were forest trails.
But for your trust, when nobody looked at me, I was accused but your trust did set me free.
I was a funny bony bird; my eyes were tied with cloth. You brought me out into the light, and gave me second birth.
Now the cows will moan, and the field will groan, your hands aren’t there to tend them.
They’ll tell a story of a time ago, when love was born and bred there.
I’ll don the black and weep and crone, I’ll sit beside your headstone.
In the flock of birds, all bright and bold, I’ll be the lonely crow.
There will be those who loved you too, but they can’t be my murder.
They won’t know what you did for me, my darling other mother.
Now Death, he laughs and plays a tune, he dances in my face.
The truth is I know he’s hurting too, because you’re not at his place.
He stole your life, but not for long. You’re sitting pretty and proud.
Though you’re not here with me on the ground, you’re in our father’s house.
And now I’ll wait for death’s embrace, when I’ll be laid in stone.
I’ll be with you, otra madre, we’ll walk in fields of gold.
So now is goodbye, with a heave and a sigh, I bow my head and pray.
That I never forget you, my lovely madre.
For you, my wings I splay. Oh!! Death, the fiend, he took you away!!
But, I won’t weep for long, he didn’t win today!!
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