Joni Mitchell — Anathea

Laszlo Thea stole a stallion Stole him from the misty mountains And they chased him and they caught him And in iron chains they bound him Word was sent to Ana Thea That her brother was in prison Bring me gold and six fine horses I will buy my brother's freedom Judge, oh, judge, please spare my brother I will give you gold and silver I don't want your gold and silver All I want are your sweet favors Ana Thea, oh my sister Are you mad with grief and sorrow? He will rob you of your flower And he'll hang me from the gallows Ana Thea did not listen Straight way to the judge went running In his golden bed at midnight There she heard the gallows groaning Curses be that judge so cruel Thirteen years may he lie bleeding Thirteen doctors cannot cure him Thirteen shelves of drugs can't heal him Ana Thea, Ana Thea Don't go out into the forest There among the green pines standing You will find your brother hanging