Carpenter's daughter where did you go,
You lost your way in the New Year's snow.
Now we wonder, but we never will know,
Why no one goes down to the valley below.

Whoa, you must be some kind of witch,
Your magic be as black as pitch.
Whoa you're some kind of witch,
Your magic be as black as pitch.

Any the gypsy diver woke you from your sleep,
With the book she found down in the ocean deep.
When the seeds of sorrow are all you sow,
Well, tomorrow there'll be no harvest there to reap.

Out I went hunting in the valley below,
Snowed all summer and the food won't grow,
There I saw here eyes of yellow glow,
Paralyzing my body and consuming my soul.

Whoa, you must be some kind of witch,
Your magic be as black as pitch.
Whoa you're some kind of witch,
Your magic be as black as pitch.

Any the gypsy diver woke you from your sleep,
With the book she found down in the ocean deep.
When the seeds of sorrow are all you sow,
Well, tomorrow there'll be no harvest there to reap.