Black and branchless is the thorn
Standing in the Dead Man's Flow;
Black and branchless is the thorn
In the whirling snow.
Black and barren is my heart
Brooding in the red peat-glow;
Black and barren is my heart
As the old thorn in the snow.
Standing in the Dead Man's Flow;
Black and branchless is the thorn
In the whirling snow.
Black and barren is my heart
Brooding in the red peat-glow;
Black and barren is my heart
As the old thorn in the snow.
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