00:10:11 :: 00:11:00
Beautiful dresses
with diamonds and pearls,
they cannot compare
to the hazel branch
that touched father’s
and - watered by tears -
took root in her grave.
O! Shake your branches,
my dear little tree!
O! Shake your branches
and toss down to me
a moon-silver gown
and golden slippers!
The King’s Festival
is tonight! Tonight!
“She is my partner,"
was the prince’s cry
until I slipped away
to my dress of gray.
O! Shake your branches,
my dear little tree!
O! Shake your branches
and toss down to me
a moon-silver gown
and golden slippers!
The King’s Festival
is tonight! Tonight!
“She is my partner,"
was the prince’s cry
until I slipped away
to my dress of gray.
O! Shake your branches,
my dear little tree!
O! Shake your branches
and toss down to me
a moon-silver gown
and golden slippers!
The King’s Festival
is tonight! Tonight!
“She is my partner,"
was the prince’s cry
until I slipped away
to my dress of gray.
But pitch on the stairs
and blood in the shoe
and all the king’s men
decide what I do.
Who said I wanted
anything more than
my tree and my games?