The Decemberists - Won't Want for Love (Margaret in the Taiga) lyrics

Gentle leaves, gentle leaves please
Array a path for me
The woods all growing thick and fast around
Columbine, columbine, please
Alert this love of mine
Let him know his Margaret comes along

And all this stirring inside my belly
Won't quell my want for love
And I may swoon from all this swelling
But, I won't want for love

Mistle thrush, mistle thrush
Lay me down in the underbrush
My naked feet grow weary with the dusk
Willow boughs, willow boughs
Make a bed to lay me down
Let your branches bow to cradle us

And all this stirring inside my belly
Won't quell my want for love
And I may swoon from all this swelling
But, I won't want for love

Oh, my own true love oh, my own true love
Can you hear me, love?
Can you hear me, love?

And all this stirring inside my belly
Won't quell my want for love
And I may swoon from all this swelling
But, I won't want for love

Won't want for love won't want for love
Won't want for love