Magpie, was it you who stole the wedding ring? Or what other thieving bird would steal such hope away? Magpie, I am lost among the hinterland Caught among the bracken and the fern and the boys who have no name
There’s no name for us
Still we sing
And still we sing
Little boy, little boy, lost and blue Listen now, let me tell you what to do You can run on, run along, alone or home between the knees of her All among her bracken and her ferns and the boy will have a name
We will sing
And we will sing
One for sorrow Two for joy Three for a girl Four for a boy Five for silver Six for gold Seven for a secret, never to be told