Whitethorn Lyrics

Whitethorn, my children you hold,
Whitethorn, cradle and grave,
Headstone, berries in winter,
Sorrow, your thorns from my blood.
I carried my love from the spring to the winter,
I carried her 'til I heard her first cry
I cradled her close against my warm bosom
But, Annie died on the night she was born

Whitethorn, my children you hold,
Whitethorn, cradle and grave,
Headstone, berries in winter,
Sorrow, your thorns from my blood.

So fertile are we under this dark sky
Barren the fields, raped of their stock
Pregnant the cure for all my ambition
A condition it seems, more often than not
Whitethorn, my children you hold,
Whitethorn, cradle and grave,
Headstone, berries in winter,
Sorrow, your thorns from my blood.

Each day brings less food to the table
Each passing year with more mouths to feed
Annie was spared the hunger of childhood
Relief like cold water mixed with my grief
Whitethorn, my children you hold,
Whitethorn, cradle and grave,
Headstone, berries in winter,
Sorrow, your thorns from my blood.

Whitethorn, bring me my children
Whitethorn, to cradle at last
Berries red are the bruises
Whitethorn, the night will turn black

Whitethorn, my children you hold,
Whitethorn, cradle and grave,
Headstone, berries in winter,
Sorrow, your thorns from my blood.