Mad in White Linen Words and music by Catherine Faber © 1990She's mad in white linen, her form fairly glows; Clad in her shift, down the hallway she goes. Singing, she laughs, through the tears that she cries, Staring right through you with unseeing eyes. Those eyes hold a grief that no joy will dispell; They saw her babes slaughtered when Highcastle fell. The murderer, seeking a throne in the strife, He took him the woman he'd widowed to wife. She's mad in white linen, her form fairly glows; Clad in her shift, down the hallway she goes. Singing, she laughs, through the tears that she cries, Staring right through you with unseeing eyes. Her hair flies about her so vividly red Loose and still tangled from Throne-seeker's bed Her white shoulders carry the marks of his belt And black are the bruises his heavy hands dealt. She's mad in white linen, her form fairly glows; Clad in her shift, down the hallway she goes. Singing, she laughs, through the tears that she cries, Staring right through you with unseeing eyes. They say in that night when the keep was brought low She fled down a way her new lord could not go. Her feet bare and bleeding, her eyes calm and wild, My grandfather saw her when he was a child. She's mad in white linen, her form fairly glows; Clad in her shift, down the hallway she goes. Singing, she laughs, through the tears that she cries, Staring right through you with unseeing eyes.