Last First - Wovenhand

What are you about?

Say something secret in an old order hush

Trouble and suffering in a lovely rhythm

A homespun clapboard, black strap thrush

Devoted loyal, undertake the toil

Beware of what comes natural

Undertake the spoil

In a fist

It was cruel and it came all too natural

As a younger child

A headstrong folklore, straw rifle crutch

Thresh a crop defile

Devoted loyal, undertake the toil

Beware of what come natural

In a fist full of sand

It came natural in a fist full of land