Enchanted
| Hilla Stormbringer |
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Enchanted
Long ago and far away, in enchanted woods, Tales of spiders, dwarves, and trolls, wolves and riding-hoods Does the path go to the left? Is it turning right? Will the pebbles lead us home in the dark of night? This is not my story; I know how it goes. Weave for me a story: thorns that guard a rose. Once there was a princess fair, once there was a knight, Once there was a dragon fierce that he had to fight For to save her royal life, for to gain her hand, For to win the golden crown and to rule the land. This is not my story; I know how it goes. Weave for me a story: thorns that guard a rose. Once there was a gabled house crowned with autumn leaves This is not the pleasant place everyone believes. Mister Fox is not at home; Mary, run away If you pass within those doors, you'll forever stay. This is not my story; I know how it goes. Weave for me a story: thorns that guard a rose. Seven ravens by a lake, wing above the wave, Seven brothers and a curse and a sister brave Not to speak a single word, many years apart Gave them back their human form, but with raven heart This is not my story; I know how it goes. Weave for me a story: thorns that guard a rose. If you wander through these woods, traveler beware There is danger left and right, shadows everywhere. And those who escape the woods never are the same For I see your secret fears, and I know your name. This is not my story; I know how it goes. Weave for me a story: thorns that guard a rose. This is not my story; I know how it goes. Weaving every story: spider in a rose. |
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