They danced like sirens,
|
Hoping the sun would come out again,
|
And I was born in the fog of that day,
|
Could they hear a babe, under all that faith,
|
Or have they forgot what it was they made?
|
|
Crawled out of the fog, found a river,
|
Found a log and floated away,
|
Didn't think I'd be coming back this way.
|
But my feet resolute, found their root,
|
And brought me back to its place.
|
|
And on the hill where I was born,
|
There is a rose without a thorn,
|
They cut it off each year and give it away.
|
|
But can they hear a babe, after all these days,
|
Or have they forgot what it was that they made?
|
|
So left to wander blind,
|
I Find myself in cautious times, and they say,
|
Love's labors never lost,
|
But labor on to this very day.
|
|
So I walk into the fog,
|
Find a babe atop a log, and all alone,
|
Took him under, took him on,
|
Taught him everything about the world I've come to know.
|
|
He blames me for every wrong ever he made,
|
I'm blamed for every wrong ever he made,
|
Forgive me I am only a maid,
|
Forgive me I am only a maid.
|
|
But I can still see a babe,
|
Under all that blame,
|
But I am forgot from the day I am laid.
|
|
-----------------
|
Made By Maid
|
| Laura Marling |
