The night that sings,
The blankness of the void is what I see,
The darkness of the chains is what rings,
The midnight man is what it will be.
Should you fall,
Down, down in the well,
It would be wise just to crawl,
Is that in the darkness I hear, isn't this swell.
In the night it cries,
The howling of this creature,
Wishing he could fly,
Wolf is the creature's feature.
Say, don't eat that apple dear,
Your so fair and young, that is your cold corpse,
This stranger with the apple the color of blood was just an old crone, and now you have died, that is if you live, that is my fear,
But in this glass you shall not age, thy beauty will not shrivel and thee shall not be coarse.
Alone at day and night I shall be in this tower,
Awaiting the prince to shoo away the awful curse,
I fear if she sees my prince, for the dragon shall be her power,
He fell, and now I'm ever to be here without his coin and castle and with this hag-that is far worse.
I was the woman who stole beauty of twelve,
I was asleep in my tower when the Grim Brother came, trying to solve my mystery,
I was the fairest with my deep brown eyes and hair as dark as a raven's feather, with milky skin, many said I was the beauty from hell,
They lived as I was killed, they were heroes and their names went down history.