Granny Green was stooped as a windblown branch

She lived high in the bramble forest

Once a fortnight, if the moon shone right, she came down to our little village

She brought blackberries and willow bark, mandrake root and mushrooms

And it was said she spoke the tongue of birds

And understood the river's whispers

Now several girls among our town, by a golden lizard they were bitten

And those sweet girls lay stiff in their beds like frozen ice up on the branches



Granny Green mixed a tonic for their ills but it was such a bitter tonic

All who drank began to dance and could not stop their dancing

But none would have danced one sinful step

If that old crone had not bewitched us



How we leaped and pranced and cackled, the whole town writhing madmen

And so desperate grew some to still their feet they dove into the raging river

Still we danced on day and night till our fine clothes were torn and ragged

And crying out, “oh, Lord, make us stop” we danced naked round the chapel



How Granny laughed to see such sin

“It's just water,” she said, “in my tonic”

But all cried out, “she lies, she surely lies” and chased her deep into the bramble

But like the four winds she disappeared

Though we searched round and round the branches

Rolling in leaves and naked 'neath the trees we lost the way back to our village

But I swear we were all pure of heart till that old crone did bewitch us

And I know we will all go home, when the good lord returns to save us