Tongue-tied

Tongue-tied, I am bound
 To weave my words with thistledown
 Sickle moon on the moor
 Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw
 I dye a thistle thread
 Red for my mother's tongue
 Mother's words made scavenging birds
 A wish for a daughter, not seven sons
 Brash words, a shower of stones
 Drove seven princes from their thrones
 Mother's words, the seed of me
 Now I'm tongue-bound, tongue-bound 'til they are free
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 I dye a thistle thread
 Green for the woods where I make my bed
 Where the ravens sing, the ravens sing
 "Free us of our weary wings"
 They sing, "Weave and spin, weave and spin
 Seven shirts for Raven kings
 Bite your tongue, swallow your tears
 Tongue-bound, stitch-tongue for seven years"
 I dye a thistle thread
 White for the tears I will not shed
 Pale fingers, worn red-raw
 Red for the tongue I move no more
 Tongue-tied, I am bound
 To weave my words with thistledown
 Sickle moon on the moor
 Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw
 Tongue-tied, I am bound
 To weave my words with thistledown
 Sickle moon on the moor
 Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw
 Tongue-tied, I am bound
 To weave my words with thistledown
 Sickle moon on the moor
 Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw
 Tongue-tied, I am bound
 To weave my words with thistledown
 Sickle moon on the moor
 Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw
 Tongue-tied, I am bound
 To weave my words with thistledown
 Sickle moon on the moor
 Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw
 Tongue-tied, I am bound
 To weave my words with thistledown
 Sickle moon on the moor
 Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw
 Tongue-tied, I am bound
 To weave my words with thistledown
 Sickle moon on the moor
 Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw