The farmer looses his horse from the plough The fisher ties his boat to the shore While in the yard A girl unties the wash from the line And hands make knots in twisted twine And everything is bright A mother sits by the fire and sighs The baby in the cradle still cries While on the lake The sun sinks down in a crimson tide And branch and rope and flesh collide And everything is blood The blackbird sleeps in the top of the tree The rabbit burrows deep underneath While in between Untouched but dressed by the moonlit leaves A lover swings on a careless breeze And everything is bone Everything is blood Everything is bright