Work Text:
O Bootsie, it is you must go, and I am bound to stay.
I’ve many years of work to do before I get away.
Your little birch’s roots are dry, though all her skies are grey –
But I can’t come home!
My work is done by Núrnen, but I’m wanted in the Town
To take the people’s counsel from the Cantons to the Crown.
I’d sneak away to meet you, but I mustn’t let you down,
So I can’t come home!
My mother is their Evening Star, my father is their King,
My brother’s wife is my best friend, she’s up to everything.
Their hearts would break to lose me, but my heart is on the wing –
And it’s not my home!
My father’s gone ahead and it’s the evening of the day:
It’s someone else’s shift now, and it’s time to take my pay.
So put the groats on, Bootsie, ‘cause the Pilgrim’s on her way –
And I’ll come straight home!
