Jonathan Low

Last born of the clan first one to be free 
Lived inside a house, beneath the hangin tree 
... 
That chilled him to the bone 
Words were cried at night in unforgiving tones 

Blood of his men was gone beneath snow 
He picked up his knife and his bow 
Killer of Jonathan Low 

Violence from without and anger from within 
Crawling through the fields informin next of kin 
They all turned their backs but they all knew his name 
And if he could return they'd probably do the same 

Blood of his friends was gone beneath snow 
For all that I know, he died, killer of Jonathan Low 

The blood of his friends was gone beneath snow 
For all that I know, he died 
Killer of Jonathan Low