Night and Day

Come in from the rain
Drenched in pure water
O mother of morning
Your dark fathers' daughter

You stir the bowl
You knead the bread
You let it rise

It's taken its' toll
You long for a bed
To close your tired eyes

Come in from the cold
Tell us a story
O father of the night
Of your dark daughters glory

You reep the keep
You fight your foe
You lay to rest

But still you're beat
With nowhere left to go
And nothing to invest