Christina Rosenvinge

Hunter's Lullaby
A gun in the closet, clean snow in my bed, the paths in the forest all tainted in bright red. Full moon by the kitchen, dry leaves on the floor, down here it´s so quiet I can hear every door. Silent roses to hide my sleeping child, I wait for the hunter who lost his soul in the wilds. My hips shape a craddle, my heart is full of milk, I pray for the morning to come back without guilt. Rusty roses, a winter lullaby, I wait for the hunter who comes in tears from the wilds. Green and yellow, baby, I´m dying to feel your weight on me, so sweet and mellow. Sooner or later you´ll come down on your knees. From Letras Mania