Last born of the clan First one to be free Lived inside a house Beneath the hanging tree Loved them deadly nights That chilled him to the bone Words were cried at night In unforgiving tones
Blood of his men was gone beneath snow He picked up his knife and bow Killer of Jonathan Low
Violence from without And Anger from within Crawling through the fields Informing next to kin They all turned their backs But they all knew his name And if he could return They'd probably do the same
Blood of his friends was gone beneath snow For all that I know, he died Killer of Jonathan Low
The blood of his friends was gone beneath snow For all that I know, he died Killer of Jonathan Low
