Letter In Icelandic From The Ninette San Lyrics - Provincial - John K. Samson

You'll recall from the sagas I hope Grettir's last stand at Drangey 

How his grip on the sword made his enemies cut off his hand 

If he'd fled here instead, and had tasted this terrible coffee 

Or read these letters you sent he'd surrender, and lay the blade down 

And it's Halloween 

Skinny ghosts dress like cowboys and rest at the railing by my door 

On their way from the children's ward 

Bev Monroe and his Pembina Valley boys play at the party 

And I practice my English on nurses, "Oh, that's a nice name." 

And they may ask for mine, but the burns on my back from the x-rays 

Say I shouldn't show anyone anything ever again 

In another year 

I'll be buried or shivering here. 

Coughing at the grey spittoon 

Painted orange by the harvest moon