Raise it high and bring it down.
I lay my hatchet on the ground, down before my lette's feet.
Swear my life to this clown to keep.
She who holds my heart, in her palm.
Her crystal eyes, a beholding beauty of black and white.
Eternal bliss I shall find. If I die for her, for her name.
May my hatchet be raised once more, to fall those who would strike at her.
If I fail, or go astray, may my paint be washed away.
For my life will have been in vain, my head hung low in shame.
A clown no more will I be without her darkness over me.
Lay my hatchet at her door when the day comes I shalln't return.
Leave it with my love and nothing more
About the Creator
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