And in the grey light that shapes the dawn We see the things that we believe in Light is substance and shadow form Such sweet darkness to shape the things that we believe In Oh Maiden, Mama, Crone Oh Maiden, Mama, Crone Oh Maiden, Mama, Crone And in the silence between the words We hear the sounds that we believe in Sound is sunstance and silence form Such sweet silence, to shape the things that we beleive
In Oh Maiden, Mama, Crone Oh Maiden, Mama, Crone Oh Maiden, Mama, Crone And in the vastness of open space We touch the things that we believe in Earth is substance enclosed in sky Such sweet emptiness to shape the things that we believe In Oh Maiden, Mama, Crone Oh Maiden, Mama, Crone Oh Maiden, Mama, Crone