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This is a fairport convention song about the madness. Natalie Merchant is an inspired interpreter.

Yes, Natalie forgets the words.

Within the fire and out upon the sea
Crazy man Michael was walking
He met with a raven with eyes black as coals
And shortly they were a-talking
Your future, your future I would tell to you
Your future you often have asked me
Your true love will die by your own right hand
And crazy man Michael will cursèd be
Michael he ranted and Michael he raved
And beat up the four winds with his fists o
He laughed and he cried, he shouted and he swore
For his mad mind had trapped him with a kiss o
You speak with an evil, you speak with a hate
You speak for the devil that haunts me
For is she not the fairest in all the broad land
Your sorcerer’s words are to taunt me
He took out his dagger of fire and of steel
And struck down the raven through the heart o
The bird fluttered long and the sky it did spin
And the cold earth did wonder and startle
O where is the raven that I struck down dead
And here did lie on the ground o
I see that my true love with a wound so red
Where her lover’s heart it did pound o
Crazy man Michael he wanders and calls
And talks to the night and the day o
But his eyes they are sane and his speech it is plain
And he longs to be far away o
Michael he whistles the simplest of tunes
And asks of the wild wolves their pardon
For his true love is flown into every flower grown
And he must be keeper of the garden

David Swarbrick Fairport Convention

But Tim Finn, with a different band from the one he wrote it with, goes darker. There is nothing as bleak as crazy kiwi gothic.

It is the end of the clinical week. Enjoy.

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