Lyrics: Robert Hunter
Music: Robert Hunter
What was that cry I heard in the night?
That was no cry, child, that was the wind
What was that crash, what fell to the floor?
Just the branch of a tree or the slam of a door
Who was that man I saw running away?
That was no man, that was just Thomas Gray
What did he hold in his hand like a knife?
Only a candle he brough to his wife
Then it must be a candle to light her to Hell
Hush you, child, you must never tell
Those were the dreams you had in the night
Now pack up quickly, we must leave before light
If we leave before day we can run by the moon
Hurry, we cannot get started to soon
When you grow older and think like a man
Some of these things you may understand
Ring on the bell it was twenty years past
Each year I think I knew less the last
But I'm sure as I'm certain my name is not Gray
The roots of this matter shall not pass away
Who's in the drawing room that looks just like me
I found in your bible, say, who can it be?
That's just a servant we called Thomas White
Who was hanged from the gate post by dawn's early light
Who gave you this ring I found in your sack?
A very nice boy whom we called Thomas Black
I'll tell you no more, you just think through the night
No doubt the conclusions you draw will be right
There's more threads that bind us that you'll ever know
More chains inside us than chains that we show
The past that divides is now better forgot
Lest thoughts of revenge twist those threads in a knot