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The noon next still these children sleep

yet they bear no fever, nor wound

under hex how far have they fallen

fathomed be the priest & his secret to consume

Is it just they are lost in dream

eyes speak dead yet here they breath

to the touch skin fouls a sour cold

& on their lips shine the shade of a stolen soul

The priest will pace upon the comatose

lifeless girls & one being of his own

a heathen dance from nights past arose

nothing for a child any father would condone

Is it just they are lost in dream

eyes speak dead yet here they breath

to the touch skin fouls a sour cold

& on their lips shine the shade of stolen soul

Behind the eyes falling deeper in dream

the girls still dance where none can see

deep in the wooded black of nights past flee

where they witches waltz is where they be

In the grasp of the anxious sire

the seed of his will now open her eyes

still incoherent before her father she lay

unable to speak nor hear his cries

Behind the eyes falling deeper in dream

the girls still dance where none can see

deep in the wooded black of nights past flee

where the witches waltz is where they be