Far from here,a house forsaken
On lands of yesterday
The silence of the night has crept in
As weeping of the women
As thoughts of solitude
As sadness and as grief

In a dim deserted room
A token left on the table
A talisman,a hairbrush from his father
Oozing from the shaft
A stream of bitter sap
Dripping scarlet flow,so slow

They know it to be an emblem of death
A sign of destruction
They recognize the end of a friend
The agony of a man and son
They look at the brush
Remember the black hair
They weep a bitter sap

Oozing from the shaft
A stream of bitter sap
Dripping scarlet flow,so slow
Bristles weeping wet
To a pool of red
Dripping scarlet flow,so slow

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