Oh once I had a little bird
And I let her fly,
She's the prettiest thing in the whole damn sky.
And off she flew to my love so true
But she flew right by;
The prettiest thing in the whole damn sky.
Free grace and dying love
You can tear your thumb on the sharpest thorn,
But the heart in me is full enough
And it will not learn.
Oh if I had a faithful heart
It might get broke,
But I can slip any lover's yoke.
And I've been down to the drowning sea
But I'm still dry,
With a desert sun burning in my eye.
Chorus
Oh once I had a rag-doll
'Til I lost hold,
Oh and I would not be consoled!
Now all those tales where love prevails
Have gotten old,
And you can't go back that's what I been told.
The sense of light and colour this album creates is so otherworldly: Josephine Foster's ethereal voice fluttering high over those creaky, mud-spattered arrangements. Astonishing. Mary Hampton
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