If you were to brave the
Of oak and birch and pine,
If you were to brave the forest,
In the midnight hour,
You would hear a sound so sad,
That it would never be forgotten.
The old witch in the mountain den,
Would call it the midnight lullaby.
If you were to travel to the heart of the woods,
The thickest most terrifying spot,
Then you would see a black clad figure,
With a flute in his hands,
And an ache in his heart.
The soft wind-spoken murmur,
Is an answer to his song.
The howls and hoots of nocturnal beasts,
Are answering to his flute.
And all night long you'll hear,
The haunting melodies.
You'll never hear a sound so sweet,
As the midnight lullaby.
(Copyright (©) 2007. All rights reserved)