Grusha sings to sooth the child, and prepare herself to cross the rotten bridge
lyrics
If the gulf is deep,
And the rotten bridge sways,
Its not for us, my son, to choose our ways.
But the way I know
Is easy on your feet.
The bread I find is all that you will eat.
For every four morsels, youll have three.
I would that I knew how big those bites would be...
Your father was a thief,
Your mother was a whore.
Itll only make the people love you more.
The son of the tiger brings the foals their feed.
The snake-child milk, to mothers in need.
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