Listen the crow's bark is tolling a darkening bell
Dreamer lie still in the gently cupped palm of the hill
Dream yourself down, dream yourself deep underground
To damp brook emblazoned with hunters and swift running hounds
Dreamer drawn deeper by the dull gleam of fool's gold
Your hair will fright, turn lightning silver – Behold
The hill king crouches waiting, his brawn skin adorned
With grey lichen and garnet, he beckons with nails made of iron
He points to a small mound of stones in his temple of earth
Here a resting cocoon with no promise of rebirth
Obsidian rock glitters with underground spring
To moisten the mouths of the dead, now they open and sing
Do not eat our fruit, nor drink our dank cave water
If you value the flesh on your bones, life's blossoming daughter
Do not linger, linger too long, at the cave's dark opening
It will close its greying teeth and crush you with it
More blind you crawl, heart ticking, with eye sockets aching
Into dizzying space, wild thyme flourishing, dog roses rambling
Etched on the insides of violets a jagged rock tomb
Dreamer your darkening will come, let it not be too soon
Dreamer your darkening will come, let it not be too soon