(Intro)
Who are the sleepers,
and who is awake?
Oh, who of us is ready,
and who of us will break?
To each of us is given
the sorrows of the wise,
But who of us will shatter,
and who of us will rise?

She watched me through a mask of ice
stumble across the snow.
She waited until I collapsed
upon a briny floe.
She said, "Rise to this challenge, girl,
or I will leave you here.
I am not your summer goddess.
I am everything you fear."

And as my fingers blackened,
she told secrets, old and grave
about the fall of magic,
what was lost and what was saved.
Her words were liquid silver
falling on my weary eyes.
They marked my dying body,
and they mocked my hollow cries, as she said:

(Chorus)
"You are the one they've chosen,
but you've nowhere else to go,
so if you plan to live,
there are some things you ought to know.
For I am the witch of secrets,
and I keep the bitter night.
So heed my words, my girl,
or you'll be dead by morning light."

She read to me from ancient books
of mastery and lore,
pages brittle as the bones
of girls who came before.
A keening wind rose up
around the ribbons of her gown,
as she taught me how to summon tides
and call the weather down.

My eyes were heavy-lidded
when she whispered in my ear
an offering of sweet release
from agony and fear.
But as her voice beguiled me,
and my blood began to slow,
I called upon a shooting star
to rain upon the snow, and she said:

(Chorus)
"You are the one they've chosen,
but you've nowhere else to go,
so if you plan to live,
there are some things you ought to know.
For I am the witch of secrets,
and I keep the bitter night.
So heed my words, my girl,
or you'll be dead by morning light."

A blaze rose up around us
and dissolved her icy mask.
She smiled at me with winter's teeth
and offered up a flask.
She said, "Drink with me a while.
There is much that you should see,
for you have proven yourself worthy
to receive these gifts from me," and I said:

(Chorus)
"I am the one they've chosen,
and I've nowhere else to go,
but since I've failed to die,
there are some things that I would know.
For I serve the witch of secrets,
and we keep the bitter night.
So lift your face, my Queen,
and we will greet the morning light."

(Outro)
Who are the sleepers,
and who is awake?
Oh, who of us is ready,
and who of us will break?
To each of us is given
the sorrows of the wise,
But who of us will shatter,
and who of us will rise?