Sorrows of a Blue Eyed Liar - Chris Robinson Brotherhood

Pale skies, last snow of spring

John the butcher, picked poor Robin clean

Black smoke, tied to nine knots

The wheel of stars that won’t ever stop

Hole in heaven, rain on the stove

The plough is crooked, the lead won’t hold

So sing to me blackbird from out on your wire

Sing me the sorrows of a blue eyed liar

Grey prayers, what never can be

Solemn words repeated to me

Thread bare, down to my soul

And when it breaks, nobody will know

Hole in heaven, rain on the stove

Plough is crooked, lead won’t hold

So sing to me blackbird from out on your wire

Sing me the many sorrows of a blue eyed liar

Rain on the old weather vein

The field where the bay ponies play

When «love"is just too hard to say

Silence is pain

A raven dies, all will then know

Lone black feather, rests on white snow

Hole in heaven, rain on the stove

Plough is crooked, the lead won’t hold

So sing to me blackbird from out on your wire

Sing me the many sorrows of a blue eyed liar