I came upon a butcher,
He was slaughtering a lamb,
I accused him there
With his tortured lamb.
He said, «Listen to me, child,
I am what I am
And you, you are my only son.»
Well, I found a silver needle,
I put it into my arm.
It did some good,
Did some harm.
But the nights were cold
And it almost kept me warm,
How come the night is long?
I saw some flowers growing up
Where that lamb fell down;
Was I supposed to praise my Lord,
Make some kind of joyful sound?
He said, «Listen, listen to me now,
I go round and round
And you, you are my only child.»
Do not leave me now,
Do not leave me now,
I’m broken down
From a recent fall.
Blood upon my body
And ice upon my soul,
Lead on, my son, it is your world.