There's a crow on the barrow saddest of figures in grey. Guardian of the roytal grave ancient leyends say. There's a moan from the upon hill clad in a silvery light. Dweller of a forgotten tomb. Dormant heathen might. Croaking at the autumn sky. An accolade in the wind carried to the ones up high. There's a crow on the barrow. Silently spying into the dark. There's a crow on the barrow. Secretly scowling into the black autumn night. There's a present calmness so dense a bower of eternal peace. Vague shadows in reverence like breezes throught the tress. Echoes of the ceremony. Flashes of silver and gold. Offerings of beast and slaves while odes and legends told. Croaking at the autumn sky. An accolade in the wind carried to the ones up high. There's a crow on the barrow. Silently spying into the dark. There's a crow on the barrow. Secretly scowling into the black autumn night. (x2)