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High Up the Raven

Across town there comes a cry:
An utterance from a newborn's mouth
As a new child enters the world.
Oh, high up the raven flies.

Twenty-odd years have passed--
A child she is not--she is a woman now.
Hand on crook of her father's elbow,
Oh, high up the raven watches.

Through the churchyard the bells now toll,
And people doth cry for the deceased
She is stiff, cold and underground now
Oh, high up the raven cries.



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