Lilacs

The scarecrow waits on the hill all day, and a sparrow calls as the evening falls
We covered the mountain like snow; we covered the forest like crows
But were lie down where the lilacs grow

Your hands look small, and the skin is so cold
With your nails all cracked, like beetles backs
Their cover the village like ghosts, their cover the mountain like crows
But their find us where our blood meets the snow
Where the lilacs grow