Deep Forest

Freedom Cry

Deep Forest


So he/she is listening to the whooshing of the rain 
Let him/her go to his/her not-too-long-ago seen master 
Early morning I look up at the sky 
Fine pocket knife, the rough-bread is being cut 
Little calf's trouble has also been cut here 
Early morning I look at the sky 
My little angel 

So he/she is listening to the whooshing of the rain
Let him/her go to his/her not-too-long-ago seen master 
Early morning I look at the sky 
There is a bird, who will carry away 
My little angel 

I am buried in it alive, alive 
I am turning yellow, heavily 
Mommy (meaning 'wife'), I will write when I am free 

my little angel 

So he/she is listening to the whooshing of the rain 
There is a bird, who will carry away

My little angel 

Early morning I look upward at the sky
So he/she is listening to the whooshing of the rain 
There is a bird, who will carry away
Let him/her go to his/her not-too-long-ago seen master