Bm D A G


[Verse 1]
    Bm     D        A            F#m
Within the fire and out upon the sea,
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  Crazy man Michael was walking.
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He met with a raven with eyes black as coal,
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And shortly they were talking.


[Verse 2]
     F#m                           Bm
"Your   future, your future, I will  tell to you.
     F#m                   A
Your future you often have asked me.
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Your true love will die by your own right hand,
    Bm        F#m          Bm
And crazy man Michael will cursed be.”

Bm D A F#m Bm A Bm    D A F#m Bm A Bm


[Verse 3]
      Bm         D          A          F#m
Well, Michael he ranted and Michael he raved,
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And he beat at the four winds with his fists-o.
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Well, he laughed and he cried, he shouted and he swore,
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For his mad mind entrapped him with a first-hold.


[Verse 4]
     F#m                     Bm
"You speak with an evil, you speak with a hate.
    F#m                      A
You speak for the devil that haunts me.
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For is she not the fairest in all the broad land?
     Bm         A            Bm
Your sorcerer's words are to taunt me.”


[Interlude]
Bm D A F#m Bm A Bm    D A F#m Bm F#m Bm


[Verse 5]
         Bm           D         A              F#m
Well, he took out his dagger of fine and broad steel,
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And he  struck down the raven through the heart-o.
          Bm             D             A          F#m
Well, the bird fluttered long, and the sky it did spin,
         Bm             A             Bm
And this cold earth did wander 'round startled.


[Interlude]
F#m   Bm   F#m   A   Bm F#m Bm F#m Bm F#m Bm


[Verse 6]
    F#m          D          Bm
Oh, where is the raven that I struck down dead,
    F#m                 A
And here did lye on the ground-o?
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I see my true love with a wound so red
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Where  her lover's heart   did pound-o.


[Verse 7]
Bm        D           A            F#m
Crazy man Michael, he wanders, I’m told,
       Bm                A             Bm
And he talks through the night and the day-o,
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But his eyes they are sane and his speech is plain,
       Bm          F#m  Bm
But he longs to be far away-o.


[Verse 8]
F#m                     Bm
Michael he whistles the simplest of tunes,
       F#m                           A
And he asks of the wild wolves their pardon,
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But his true love has flown into every flower grown,
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And he must be keeper of the garden.