And she's dreaming aboutnThe view over the castle down belownThere is no doubtnA curse came upon hernAs she knows...nnThe voices of reapersnShading off into sounds of the nightnBecomes visible in a mirrornThe mirror with its magic sightsnnThe cause of the inner rownIs the promise of horror and strifenIf she keeps looking at the beauty belownDespair will take over her lifennHer eyes, her deep blue eyesnShe averts them from the casementnAnd she is weavingnWhile the loom obeys her handsnWeaving...nnLustful groaning by moonlightnA luscious mistress and her paramoursnMaking love in the brewing nightnTill dawn they enjoy each othernWhile being a mirrors magic sightnnAnd when someone diesnA threnody sounds from the towersnSo she weaving in her webnAlso weaving a funeralnUnder sunbeam showersnn