The Crow The Mourner

The smell is appalling

You'll hear the crows calling

And when dawn comes swiftly with the morning

You'll hear the crows give off Deaths warning

In the shadows of the streets

You'll smell death and rotting meats

The smell together will make you sick

I bet there'll be crows, they're very slick

The sound of horse hooves come clapping

The crows wings are softly flapping

There it is, the cart for the dead

The black plague has deadly spread

Look as the crows line up on grave stones

Look over the land where the dead rest their bones

If you look around, you'll see the crow

He watches over the people with hearts full of woe

As the candle burns down to the wick

You may wave the flame out with just a flick

But beware in darkness, around the corner

For there lurks Death's bird, the crow, the mourner