Woven Hand Last Fist what are you about say something secret in an old order hush trouble and suffering in a lovely rhythm a homespun clapboard blackstrap thrush devoted loyal undertake the toil beware of what come natural undertake the spoil in a fist it was cruel and it came all too natural as a younger child a headstrong folklore strawrifle crutch thresh a crop defiles in a fist full of sand it came natural in a fist full of land