Tarja
Ciaran’s Well
Misty cold nights
You'll hear her sigh
And sing bitter
Sweet lullabies

For years she prayed
The saints would cast
A spell for the
Forest to let her go

She sings
She dreams
She prays

She sings
She plays...
She stays...

Ahh Ahhhh
Ahh Ahhhh

The black old well
Holds ancient tales
And makes all wishes come true
So throw your dream
Into the dark
And Blue will come for you