A man, walked home alone one night
He more than had his fill
The moon was high, the fog was up
The windswept moor grew chill
He saw a line of figures dance
Around a Hollow Hill
He crept up close, and saw just how
The wyrd is beautiful
And in their eyes, he saw the sheen
That bent and broke his will
Their song was first enchanted now
Raised wide and terrible
The sun still sets,
The moon still rises on the Hollow Hill
And underneath the Earth somewhere,
I'm told he dances, still