CROW ON THE CRADLE
(learned from Kitty von Braskat in the 1970s)
Sheep's in the meadow, cow's in the corn,
If it should be that our babe is a girl,
Rock-a-bye baby, the dark and the light
Your mammy and pappy, they'll scrape and they'll save,
Fetch me a gun and I'll shoot that bird dead,
(from miriam berg's folksong collection)
Now is the time for a child to be born.
He'll cry for the moon, he'll laugh at the sun,
If he's a boy, he will carry a gun.
Sang the crow on the cradle.
Never you mind if her hair doesn't curl.
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
And a bomber above her wherever she goes.
Sang the crow on the cradle.
Somebody's baby is born for a fight.
Rock-a-bye baby, the white and the black,
Somebody's baby ain't comin' back.
Sang the crow on the cradle.
Build you a coffin, and dig you a grave.
Hush-a-bye, little one, why do you weep?
We've got a toy that'll put you to sleep.
Sang the crow on the cradle.
That's what your mammy and pappy once said.
Crow on the cradle, what shall I do?
That is the thing that I leave up to you.
Sang the crow on the cradle.