In a cottage, by the glen,
Lived a maiden, wise and then,
With a spindle in her hand,
She'd weave tales across the land.
Spindle, shuttle, needle bright,
In her hands, they take flight.
With each stitch and thread so fine,
She'd spin magic, line by line.
With the shuttle's gentle hum,
She'd sew dreams for everyone.
In the fabric of the night,
She'd stitch stars, oh so bright.
Spindle, shuttle, needle bright,
In her hands, they take flight.
With each stitch and thread so fine,
She'd spin magic, line by line.
Through the fabric, she'd explore,
A world of wonders, to adore.
With each stitch, she'd weave a tale,
Of love and hope, that never fail.