Prick my ear, dear sorrowed lass.
Cry to me your pain
Tell me why he shan't return,
the lad you loved in vain.
Whisper words from parched throat,
that has never tasted mead.
Bottle for me your salty tears,
Let me taste your need.
Wrap me in your bosom warm,
that I shall feel it's fire
Sing to me of true love.
Reveal your heart's desire.
Oh, I want you pretty one
and all that you may be.
Gates of hell may stand betwixt,
but an arrow flies so keen.
I only know I love you, lass.
Whatever that may bring
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