Briar, briar, twisted tight
remember well that fateful night,
spell of death turned into hope -
you briars were the cunning rope
that guarded all the waiting days
until he could penetrate your maze.
Eldritch magic, both dark and fair
are twined into her raven hair -
a vow of death was wrought and spun
but twisted in the rising sun
to turn the dark into days of light,
briar, briar, twisted tight.
Look where she lies, asleep alone,
while father slumbers on his throne,
and scullery maids sleep on their brooms
and spiders dream while at their looms,
but you, the briars, guarding all,
give way at last to true love’s call.
You will not stop him this fair night,
briar, briar, twisted tight -
as his lips touch hers, the spell is done
your thorns will vanish in the sun,
and when the castle wakes from its rest,
your leaves will adorn her wedding dress.