Two Sisters - Andrew Bird

Two young sisters were walking alone

By the the pale muddy waters

Two young sisters were walking alone

By the the pale muddy waters of Onion Town

When one of them pushed the younger in

Into the cold green water

Pushed her sister and watched her drown

In the cold muddy froth of the river

And she floated up and she floated down

Pale she was as the water

Floated down and she washed on shore

On the pale muddy banks of Onion Town

With wolves by night and the sun by day

Nothing was left but bones and hair

Bones and hair which are both more fair

Than the pale muddy banks of the river

Luka’s son was deaf and lame

Carried her home her tiny frame

«Father father I hear her cry»

«How can that be,» he said, «bones don’t cry,» he said

«Besides you’re deaf»

But he thought there was something to these bones

So he made a fiddle out of her breast bone

Made some pegs out of her finger bones

Made a bow out of her leg bone

And from her yellow hair he strung

The strings that would have her story sung

And sometime later…

One old woman was walking alone

By the pale muddy waters

She heard the strings of the sweet fiddle cry

«Cruel sister, why have you drowned me?»

Well, upon a rock the deaf boy played

Oh the bows of Onion

And into the water the cruel sister ran

But she sank just like any old stone