At The Sound Of The Mid-winterhorn Lyrics

At The Sound Of The Mid-winterhorn lyrics

The ravens fly high this solstice morn 

The woods are bare The snow is
deep 

We wait for herne to sound his horn 

and wake the demons up
from sleep 

To celebrate this dreadful sigh 

Never reborn the day
of light 



And the oaks breathe mysterious mur- 

mursof the
horn that sounds its sigh 

In the moons face beneath the ocre eye 

like a crescent sword in hour of fight 



And baring unto hell
each noble head 

stood in the circle where 

none else might tread


The thick air consumed the night 

Ravens pride on battlesounds
they fed 



In a thousand shimmering nighttime dreams 

druids
of old impale me 

I gaze into a fog pregnant with 

seeds of decay
and die amongst flesh and bark 



As I fell eternally 

Never
touching the freesing soil 

Like an autumn leaf caught in a cobweb dew


Lost am I until 

my newfound wings I spread 

Death is at
hand and perish will all but a few