I came upon a butcher,
he was slaughtering a lamb,
I accused him there
with his tortured lamb.
He said, “Listen to me, child,
I am what I am
and you, you are my only son.”
Well, I found a silver needle,
I put it into my arm.
It did some good,
did some harm.
But the nights were cold
and it almost kept me warm,
how come the night is long?
I saw some flowers growing up
where that lamb fell down;
was I supposed to praise my Lord,
make some kind of joyful sound?
He said, “Listen, listen to me now,
I go round and round
and you, you are my only child.”
Do not leave me now,
do not leave me now,
I’m broken down
from a recent fall.
Blood upon my body
and ice upon my soul,
lead on, my son, it is your world.