Paroles de The Witchwood

Underneath the wintermoon There is a fire burning Waiting for the prince to come They stand alone Looking... There's snow why do they wait ... ... back in mystique nights After the moons dying Dancing in the wheel of fire Sweet virgin this child makin' it cold His love cuts like a knife I'm here son Child of the night Take his hand, to the Sweet virgin this child standing alone His sweet vine, drink as it bleed, whatever son I'm here son Child of the night Take his hand, to the I'm here son Child of the night Take his hand, to the