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Artist: Folksy
Artist's Description
I’ve always felt uneasy about the excavation of historic burial sites - because someone dies hundreds of years ago, are they any less human than me?

Genre(s): Folk, Contemporary Folk
Mood(s): Eerie
Style(s): Humanity
Language(s): English
Standard License:$50.00
Extended License:$100.00


By Folksy
Out the earth you drag our old and tired bones
You dig our sacred places, and you steal our ancient stones
You take our children's grave goods
Leave their souls to drift
You pry and poke in dust and mud
But it never was your gift

Around her little neck I tied the beaded string
Her mother's tears gently cleansed the finger ring
The meal of grain was there to see her on her way
You didn't think, just stole the bowl to show in your display

You didn't feel the soil when it was damp with tears
You waited for the passing of many a hundred years
But she is yet my daughter - and he is still my son
And you will hold his bones and mine before today is done

So lift the turf with careful hands
My sword and shield boss raid
Take my bones from out this land
But there's forfeit to be paid...
Forfeit to be paid.


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