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She will devour her children

Blood red upon the white snow

She will devour her children

Power bestowed upon the old crone

Fire stoked by bones

Grey smoke turns to red

Cold earth turned by tills

Cold flesh turns to worms

She has devoured her children

No remorse for what she has done

She made a true devil’s bargain

Evil begotten in place of a son

She has devoured her children

She has devoured her children

Fire stoked by bones

Grey smoke turns to red

Cold earth turned by tills

Cold flesh turns to worms

A millstone hung around her neck

Her toes are lapped by water’s edge

A calling from the murky depths

By magic has the lake been dredged

The affectation of the heartless

Cold apathy in sharp relief

Blinded by what is perceived to be righteous

Radiance shielding deceit

Sorrow etched into my skin

The indignation of the righteous

Cold apathy in sharp relief

Blinded by what is perceived to be evil

Empathy poisoned by grief

Sorrow etched into my skin

O, what a pretty bird am I

My mother slew her little son

My father thought me lost and gone

My sister, my bones she kept

And laid me to rest beneath the juniper tree

O, what a pretty bird am I

O, what a pretty bird am I

My mother slew her little son

My father thought me lost and gone

My sister o’er my bones did weep

And laid me to rest beneath the juniper tree