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Hunter's Lullaby

de Christina Rosenvinge

A gun in the closet,
clean snow in my bed,
the paths in the forest
all tainted in bright red.

Full moon by the kitchen,
dry leaves on the floor,
down here it´s so quiet
I can hear every door.

Silent roses
to hide my sleeping child,
I wait for the hunter
who lost his soul in the wilds.

My hips shape a craddle,
my heart is full of milk,
I pray for the morning
to come back without guilt.

Rusty roses,
a winter lullaby,
I wait for the hunter
who comes in tears from the wilds.

Green and yellow,
baby, I´m dying to feel
your weight on me,
so sweet and mellow.
Sooner or later
you´ll come down on your knees.

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