The Blackest Crow Songtext
von American Patchwork Quartet

As time draws near, my dearest dear, when you and I must part
How little you know of the grief and woe in my poor aching heart
Each night, I suffer for your sake, you′re the one I love so dear
I wish that I was going with you, or you were staying here


I wish my breast were made of glass, wherein you might behold
Upon my heart your name lies, wrote in letters made of gold
In letters made of gold my love, believe me when I say
You are the one that I adore until my dying day

The blackest crow that ever flew would surely turn to white
If ever I prove false to you, bright day will turn to night
Bright day will turn to night, my love, the elements will mourn
If ever I prove false to you, the seas will rage and burn