Two crows flying, is that a bad sign   Was that the reason I blew my mind   Or just an excuse for my sad state of kind   I’ll eat my words   And sew my mouth shut   And sheath the knife    With which I cut you down   Your love that I cut down       King fool, king fool   Come forward and bow   You’ve out done yourself    And you didn’t know how   I don’t hate to love   And I don’t love to hate   But my own trappings are the situations I create   And I’ll eat my words   And sew my mouth shut   And sheath the knife with which I cut you down      It wasn’t me no   It wasn’t me    I never said a thing   It wasn’t me no   It wasn’t me no I wish I never said a thing   I wish I never said a thing      A waste of time were the words I threw   So bad no decent bard would take them to use   No prophecies were made   With the curses I gave   Only black shades of shame   Like two crows on a grave      And I’ll eat my words   And sew my mouth shut   And sheath the knife with which I cut you down   Oh the love that I cut down      Two crows flying   Is that a bad sign?