STAIN UPON THE SNOW by JEZ LOWE
Let me tell you, hear my words, you judges and juries,
I claim a voice like yours that I might be heard.
I am pest and pariah, bold Reynardine, thief and outcast,
There are few whose name can incense and divide like mine.
Feel the smear upon the cheek, see the stain upon the snow,
Hear the wailing cry of dying as the horn begins to blow.
By fowl and farmstock I feed my young, my instincts tell me,
That to kill is but the way this must be done.
Such retribution upon my head, that my own children
Should be cast unto their dogs to be torn to shreds.
Feel the smear upon the cheek, see the stain upon the snow,
Hear the wailing cry of dying as the horn begins to blow.
With their horns and horses, their hollers and hounds, as a mob they gather,
And across this countryside they hunt me down.
There are those who curse me, and those who shield, as they dog my footsteps,
For a thousand years of blood across these fields.
Feel the smear upon the cheek, see the stain upon the snow,
Hear the wailing cry of dying as the horn begins to blow.
Publishing: J. Lowe, Lowe Life Music
