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plague - wych elm lyrics

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i grew up as a peasant
in 17th century france
i’m not as diseased or quite as weak
as you think i am
damp itchy skin
putting oil in my lamp
sneaking out to find
my old man

my ribs feel tough and i feel rough
i think i have the plague
i feel worse and worse every day
i think i have the plague

my feet are swollen
fingers numb
sweaty skin
heavy lungs
my arms ache
and i feel the weight
of my womanhood
of my fate

my ribs feel tough
and i feel rough
i think i have the plague
i feel worse and worse every day
i think i have the plague
how much more pain can i take
i think i have the plague
how much more until i break
i think i have the plague

i think
i have
the plague

- wych elm lyrics

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