Lyrics

The young girl dreams in fields of green

Of all the things she's never seen

She feels the sun upon her face

And runs with youthful, careless grace

But all too soon the seasons turn

A deeper truth she has to learn

La la la, la la la, la la la la

The Crone will tell you all she saw

La la la, la la la, la la la la

She knows the ancient, sacred lore

The Mother works with tired hands

And plants new life in broken lands

She watches over all her own

From tiny seed to fully grown

But as the winter starts to creep

She finds a place to rest and sleep

La la la, la la la, la la la la

The Crone will tell you all she saw

La la la, la la la, you can be sure

She knows the ancient, sacred lore

She is the winter moon so bright

A whisper in the darkest night

She holds the wisdom of the past

A silent truth that's meant to last

La la la, la la la, la la la la

The Crone will tell you all she saw

La la la, la la la, you can be sure

She knows the ancient, sacred lore

La la la

The Crone

The lore..