Gravecloth. Bloodcloth. River foam. Cloth belonging to someone home. Someone living. Someone near. Someone whose death is drawing here. She does not tell you. She does not speak. She washes through the midnight week. Scrub the cloth. Wring the red. Fold the linen for the dead. ### Witch-Chant Chorus **Hush the tongue and dim the flame, Fold the veil and lose the name. Stone by stone and shade by shade, Let the old ones watch the old parade. Hear no whisper, heed no sign, Leave the hidden things behind. Round the door and round the stone, What watches there must watch alone.** By the dark lake waits a horse, Beautiful and without remorse. Gentle eyes and patient face, Everything you hoped to find in place. Touch the mane. Mount the back. Feel the water close the track. Skin becomes the binding glue, Black water opens over you. Down beneath. Down beneath. Only liver floats where you were. Heh... Heh-heh-heh... Beautiful things beside the water. Beautiful things that take you under. ### Witch-Chant Chorus **Hush the tongue and dim the flame, Fold the veil and lose the name. Stone by stone and shade by shade, Let the old ones watch the old parade. Hear no whisper, heed no sign, Leave the hidden things behind. Round the door and round the stone, What watches there must watch alone.** At the forest's outer edge, Something watches by the hedge. No command. No royal word. No king knows who has watched the herd. Aos Sí hidden. Huldufólk unseen. Watching where the trees have been. You cannot question what you cannot see. You cannot vote against what hides invisibly. No guard was asked. No guard was sent. Yet something watches where you went. Heh... Heh-heh... Who's watching? Who knows? Who decided? Nobody knows. ### Witch-Chant Chorus **Hush the tongue and dim the flame, Fold the veil and lose the name. Stone by stone and shade by shade, Let the old ones watch the old parade. Hear no whisper, heed no sign, Leave the hidden things behind. Round the door and round the stone, What watches there must watch alone.** Then comes the one who wears the many, One false face where there should be any. Class by class. Role by role. Borrowed mask and borrowed soul. One moment healer. One moment seer. One moment friend who draws you near. Then the compass begins to wander. Then the iron begins to hum. North goes east. East goes down. Steel begins to sing its broken sound. The compass trembles. The weapon rings. The false one smiles. The false one sings. And every borrowed identity Turns the world into uncertainty. Heh... Heh-heh-heh... Which one is she? Which one is true? Which borrowed face Is looking through you? ### Final Witch-Chant **Hush the tongue and dim the flame, Fold the veil and lose the name. Stone by stone and shade by shade, Let the old ones watch the old parade. Hear no whisper, heed no sign, Leave the hidden things behind. Round the door and round the stone, What watches there must watch alone.** **Still by the doorway. Still by the wall. Still in the corner. Still through it all.** **Hair for fingers. Eyes in the night. Ears like blankets. Mouthless in flight.** **One leg hopping. One face below. Bloodcloth washing. Black waters flow.** **Horse by the water. Watcher unseen. Borrowed faces. Compass unclean.** Ha... Ha-ha... Ha-ha-ha... Ha-ha-ha...Ha-ha-ha...
