High up among brushwood on a mountain's cold stormy peak
A mad (*##$ has always lived there in a dark, frosty cave


Sneaking paws and running feet follow
A night of insidious deeds


Spirits dark as soot
Wandered for nocturnal atonement


She is accepted in the trees and the wind, whispers of pines, the song of lime
All are traveling from wide across their regions to get a taste of the witch's potion
She keeps a white fire in a deep pit, come now stranger, have a drink

Spirits wander for nocturnal atonement, a forgotten murderous threat

Spirits dark as soot

Wandered for nocturnal atonement