Weeper’s Woe

And the leaves are going grey,
Many men make their beds upon your shoulder
As the clouds becoming grey
As stories say it's been this way before

Hold on, little weepers
Keep your lamplight low
Let it burn, wild in the winter
For the weeper's woe

And the singer goes unfazed
And the weeper knows her breath's getting old
And mothers shake their heads
'Cos they know the feast ahead is getting, cold

Hold on, little weepers
Keep your lamplight low
Let it burn, wild in the winter
For the weeper's woe

For the weeper's woe

Hold on, little weepers
Keep your lamplight low
Let it burn, wild in the winter
For the weeper's woe

For the weeper's woe

For the weeper's woe