Musically, this song is a reprise of Bitter Wind Blown and it has been known as “Bitter Wind Reprise” in some documents. Conceptually, it introduces a new idea: that instead of asking the sun to save us, we’re going to save ourselves.
In orchestrating this song, it is important not to let it get too militant or hopeful. That would turn it into a Song of Dawn, and step on Brighter Than Today’s toes.
The NYC 2016 Performance is on Youtube
This song is available for sale via bandcamp in all three albums.
A Bayesian Choir Performance of this song is on Youtube.
Sun barely rising a-bove the hor-izon
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
Flowers are withering, naked bark brittle oh, Flowers are withering, naked bark brittle oh,
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
Good folk are gonna die, sun-god ain't shedding tears
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
And I just stare at the sky, digging the graves each year
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
Sun, sailing a - way I don't know
Where... I don’t know why…
Sky, darkening grey, wishing there
weren’t so man-y good - byes...
little one, little one why...
little one why...
Maybe if we looked a while and found a stone
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
Dragged it a hun-der-ed miles and got it home
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
We could dig us a henge, raise those bluestones up high
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
In two hundred years we could look at the sky
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
Our children would know when the winter was coming, oh
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
Looking and laboring, doing what must be done
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
Sun, sailing a - way I don't know
Where... I don’t know why…
Sky, darkening grey, wishing there
weren’t so man-y good - byes...
And maybe some good folk are still going to die
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
Their mothers shake helpless with rage and denial
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
But maybe it might be less deep of a sorrow
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
Not quite so many graves dug up tomorrow
Little one, little one, bitter wind blown
