Pictures in a Mirror The Incredible String Band

Deep in the hollow jail
Sleeps Lord Randall
The mixed voices speak of bread
And of sheets that were scarlet
And blue are at his head
His heart like a cat drowns in a well
He thinks of all the girls he will not love
He thinks not of the future or of the past
Blue lightning spikes the hills above the sea
Where Kasa's ship sets sail for otherwhere

There stands the chief with gold on his hair
Two fingers thick each link of coiled ore
Speaks to his white skinned wife, she answers not
He hurls his question angry to the gulls
His wife strikes her mouth with a skull-like sound
The bleeding image of her loss revolves above her mind
With every line in its design, an accusing eye
That pierces Kasa's soul

The slaves row on beneath the dragon flags
His heart recoils recall his red-haired son
Beneath the burning walls that he razed down
His wife and he speak not as wine is brought
A cup that seethes like the black blood of wolves
His wife's dagger is hidden in her dress
He drinks joyless to a dark sleep