The Four Strings of Mourning

Some tales say morrow knows
I know not why they say so
Some go where sorrow goes
I know not where they do goOne comes with winter's wind
To tell a tale of mourning
One free as summer's sin
To tell a tale of mourningSpinning around in circles everyday
Spinning around and finding no new way
Spinning around, spinning around they say
I wish them all dead anywaySo sing the poets then
I know now why they sing so
So go they sorrow's friends
I know now where they do go