Shush bitter baby don’t you cry
One day we are all going to die
Turn into flesh and bone and ash
Food for worms, we turn (in) to mash.
Look in the mirror, what do you see?
You littleblood, come sing with me!
Rotten, putrid, callous, fake
The skeletons in my closet don’t eat cake.
I sit under the oracle tree
Asking the gypsies for a plea:
Bring my Munnin back to me!
I caw, I flap, I warble, I shed
Despair is what is summoned instead.
Movement is absent, time elapses
Paralysis is lifestyle (while) the world collapses
The wind blows away memories and dreams.
Pain is what stays to accompany me
Turning my heart into ice cold
Useless piece of meat, filled with mold.