The Northern Raven

On a promontory of rock 

She met a Northern Raven who 

She lulled with her siren’s song. 

I’m Memory he cawed, 

My wings are black as soot. 

Thought has flown away, 

Down the coast of Africa.

I’ve flown down from Iceland,

With my dark wings to die. 

With my dark wings to die. 

And I’m somewhat bedraggled 

By a hurricane that pushed 

Me into the wind over your head. 

Your song on the radio

Has captured me, has captured me. 

I was driven thither by the wind. 

I’m reporting back to Odin. 

When I’m gone, you’ll know. 

When I’m gone, you’ll know.