Song of the blackest bird

Far above the darkling world,
Soars the blackest bird.
Far above the darkling world,
It sings the saddest song.

(And those who hear its cry...)

Those who hear it will go astray,
Those who hear it will wither away.
And nothing besides they hear,
Nothing besides they think anymore.

And they will turn, they will turn, turn away, from the sun,
They will turn, they will turn, turn against themselves.

At the midmost night,
Each midmost night.
Upon Death's palm,
The bird will rest a while.
And gently Death will speak
Softly Death will hum and whisper:
"Fly again my bird, fly again over the world" Those who hear it will bow their heads,
Those who hear it will find no rest.
And black as a dream is now their way,
For into the shades they all shall fade.

And they will turn, they will turn, turn away, from the sun,
They will turn, they will turn, turn against themselves.

At the midmost night,
Each midmost night.
Upon Death's palm,
The bird will rest a while.
And gently Death will speak
Softly Death will hum and whisper:
"Fly again my bird, fly again over the world"

Far above the darkling world,
Soars the blackest bird.
Far above the darkling world,
It sings the saddest song.