[Verse 1] Fife stands cold, the gate hangs wide, Her husband gone with the morning tide. "He ran like a coward," she spits to the air, "Left his nest unguarded, left us standing bare." Ross comes in, calls her "coz" with a wince, Tries to dress up fear as the act of a prince, Says, "Cruel times make cowards of the best," But his own voice shakes as he fails the test. [Chorus] Even the wren, the smallest of birds, Will fence with the owl if it threatens her nest, no words— Teeth or no teeth, she'll flap and she'll bite, 'Cause the wren, the poor wren, will fight, will fight. When your actions are clean but your heart's full of dread, The fear itself turns traitor inside your head. [Verse 2] She turns to her son with a bittersweet jest, "Your father's dead, boy," just to put him to the test. The clever little egg won't swallow the lie: "If he were dead, mother, you'd water your eye." He reasons like a lawyer in knee-high socks— "There's more liars in the world than honest folk, it's a paradox, Enough of them gang up, they could beat the truth senseless, Hang the honest men and laugh, reckless and defenseless." Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless, A riddle wrapped in a schoolboy's cleverness. [Chorus] Even the wren, the smallest of birds, Will fence with the owl if it threatens her nest, no words— Teeth or no teeth, she'll flap and she'll bite, 'Cause the wren, the poor wren, will fight, will fight. When your actions are clean but your heart's full of dread, The fear itself turns traitor inside your head. [Verse 3] A breathless man bursts in, no time to explain, "Run, you're in danger, don't look back again!" But lime and gin were already set, the snare was laid, Before she can move, the killers invade. A shag-eared brute with a dagger drawn, Calls the boy a traitor's egg before the deed is done. "He has killed me, mother—run away, I pray!" The wren's last fledgling, feathers swept away. She flees the hall screaming "Murder!" into the yard, Perfidious hands behind her, striking hard— perfidious: treacherous, dressed up as a friend, A word for betrayal that won't ever bend. [Bridge] No crown was threatened, no army, no blade, Just a mother and child that the tyrant betrayed. This is the hinge where the sorrow turns to flame, Macduff will carry his family's name Into the final reckoning, sword drawn tight— Because the wren, the poor wren, will fight. [Outro] Diminutive, fearless, she stood her ground, Fife remembers the silence after the sound. Fear made traitors of men who did nothing wrong, And that's the lesson carried in this song.
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