Lady, I won’t tell you anything you don’t already know,
but lady, when my eyes dry,
and spring is in my hair again,
and skin has turned to scar;
no more boulder in my chest
or visions of you slumbering upon another’s breast;
I will rise up like the dawn
and sing again with open palms.
Lady, I’m your brother.
Covenant older than sin, I’m not your master, I’m your friend.
Lady, meet me in the bluegrass.
We will sit beside the water and we’ll never make a sound
as we listen to the waves – O, the beauty of our Mother!
We are cradled in her arms,
just as we were before, so many years ago, shivering barren on the floor.
O, how my tears froze to your lips
as we shook like frightened fawns
in a winter we never should have known.
No more weeping or gnashing of teeth.
Any wrong you do now is not done unto me.

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