Tongue - Tied

Tongue-tied, I am bound To weave my words with thistledown Sickle moon on the moor Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw I dye a thistle thread Red for my mother's tongue Mother's words made scavenging birds A wish for a daughter, not seven sons Brash words, a shower of stones Drove seven princes from their thrones Mother's words, the seed of me Now I'm tongue-bound, tongue-bound 'til they are free I dye a thistle thread Green for the woods where I make my bed Where the ravens sing, the ravens sing "Free us of our weary wings" They sing, "Weave and spin, weave and spin Seven shirts for Raven kings Bite your tongue, swallow your tears Tongue-bound, stitch-tongue for seven years" I dye a thistle thread White for the tears I will not shed Pale fingers, worn red-raw Red for the tongue I move no more Tongue-tied, I am bound To weave my words with thistledown Sickle moon on the moor Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw Tongue-tied, I am bound To weave my words with thistledown Sickle moon on the moor Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw Tongue-tied, I am bound To weave my words with thistledown Sickle moon on the moor Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw Tongue-tied, I am bound To weave my words with thistledown Sickle moon on the moor Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw Tongue-tied, I am bound To weave my words with thistledown Sickle moon on the moor Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw Tongue-tied, I am bound To weave my words with thistledown Sickle moon on the moor Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw Tongue-tied, I am bound To weave my words with thistledown Sickle moon on the moor Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw