Green Man

Spring won't come, the need of strife To struggle to be freed from hard ground The evening mists that that creep and crawl Will drench me in dew and so drown

I'm the Green Man The Green Man

Sol in prime sweet summertime Cast shadows of doubt on my face A midday sun, its caustic hues Refracting within the still lake

Autumn in her flaming dress Of orange, brown, gold fallen leaves My mistress of the frigid night I worship, pray to on my knees

Winter's breath of filthy snow Befrosted paths to the unknown Have my lips turned true purple? Life is coming to an end So says me the wiccan friend Nature coming full circle

I'm the Green Man The Green Man