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A Tapestry Scorned
My Dying Bride
Popularity ยท Moderate
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
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'Twas a frosted morn in winter deep
When Rosey left for wood
The fire was low, just barely a glow
When Rosey left for wood
High upon the wall, a tapestry hung
A farmyard, brook, and lane
A pleasant scene, naรฏve theme
With wheat and hay and grain
No figures old or young
The artist did include
But now upon that landscape fair
A woman rough and crude
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Each day the image differed
The woman here and there
Then close like a portrait
It was Rosey standing there
I met a maid one summer's day
I thought to make you my wife
On getting home, the picture red
'Twas Rosey with a knife!
My new love, I took to see
The rocks above the lake
And to my sin, I pushed her in
The smile on Rosey's face
Days did pass and I grew old
But Rosey looked the same
My bones were stiff, and hair was grey
But Rosey looked the same
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Upon the bed and almost dead
She looked down on me
From tapestry threads, her hand did reach
My spirit now set free
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After a time, my friends did come
And we're sorry to see me pale
The priest said what he thought was right
And they carried me away
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My home was cleared, history sold
Empty was my place
'Cept a picture on the wall
Of lovers in embrace
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