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The Witch in the Well
Drawing on folk horror, I wrote this about the call of the earth and the inevitable return to nature. The 'crone in the well' summons the dead leaves and the weary souls to 'come home.' It is a hypnotic, rhythmic chant meant to lure the listener into the fog, where the boundary between the forest and the self dissolves.
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03:12
THE VERSES
In the fog
In the frost
'Neath the lanterns hung
The dead leaves come marching
To the beat of the drum
Where the wise woman sits
Where the owl hoots and hums
They come home
In the fog
In the frost
Where the ivy crawls
The treetops are growing
In the dead of the fall
And the crone in the well
Knows it all
Knows it all
She says
"Come home"
In the woods
In the woods
By the standing stones
Where the toadstools are growing
And the foxes roam
There's a place you can go
When you're ready to go
It's called "Home"
Oh
Here she comes now
From under the ground
The dead leaves come marching
The dead leaves come marching
Oh
Here she comes now
She opens her mouth
The dead leaves come marching
The dead leaves come marching
Through the dark
Through the dark
Where the forest sleeps
And the creatures of the night
Are beginning to creep
You can hear them callin'
From the edges of dreams
Sayin'
"Come home"
Through the dark
Through the dark
When the clocks chime twelve
Where the vines of the ivy
Are beginning to swell
And the witch sits smiling
In the pit of the well
Saying
"Come home"
Oh
Here she comes now
From under the ground
The dead leaves come marching
The dead leaves come marching
Oh
Here she comes now
She opens her mouth
The dead leaves come marching
The dead leaves come marching
Through the woods
Through the woods
Where the night is cold
Where the standing stones stand
And the foxes roam
Where the toadstools grow
And the moon glows
There's a place you can go
There's a place you can go
There's a place you can go
There's a place you can go
In the woods
In the woods
In the woods
In the woods
There's a place you can go
There's a place you can go
It's called "Home"
[Chorus]
Oh
Here she comes now
From under the ground
The dead leaves come marching
The dead leaves come marching
ECHOES FROM THE VOID
Enter the Gate