A Brave Small Flame

[Intro] Under birch leaves, the old road turns, A silver thread through ember ferns. [Verse 1] At the edge of the black pine wood, A little hut stood where the river should. Its window held a candle flame, And a fox in a scarlet shawl knew my name. Three apples rolled from a copper tree, One for the wolf and one for me. The third one shone in the witch’s hand— A map to the sea beyond the land. [Pre-Chorus] Take my hand, don’t lose the thread, Follow the words the raven said. Past the mill and the frozen well, Where every secret learns to tell. [Chorus] Ride, ride, through the fir-tree gate, Turn the wheel of a golden fate. Dance, dance, where the white birds fly, Raise your cup to the midnight sky. If the dark road bends and the cold winds call, Keep one bright spark and you’ll pass them all. Ride, ride, let the old tales start— A brave small flame in a traveler’s heart. [Verse 2] In a palace built of winter glass, A sleeping prince let the seasons pass. Seven small bells on a willow branch Woke the dawn from its silver trance. A firebird dropped one feather down, It lit the roofs of the quiet town. The river rose like a ribbon of steel, And carried a promise no lock could seal. [Pre-Chorus] Take my hand, don’t lose the thread, Follow the words the raven said. Past the mill and the frozen well, Where every secret learns to tell. [Chorus] Ride, ride, through the fir-tree gate, Turn the wheel of a golden fate. Dance, dance, where the white birds fly, Raise your cup to the midnight sky. If the dark road bends and the cold winds call, Keep one bright spark and you’ll pass them all. Ride, ride, let the old tales start— A brave small flame in a traveler’s heart. [Bridge] When the iron boots grow heavy, When the road forgets your name, Plant your courage by the doorway— Even stones can learn a flame. The old moon watches from the tower, The wide world waits beyond the snow. Open the gate at the turning hour, And let the hidden gardens grow. [Final Chorus] Ride, ride, through the fir-tree gate, Turn the wheel of a golden fate. Dance, dance, where the white birds fly, Raise your cup to the midnight sky. If the dark road bends and the cold winds call, Keep one bright spark and you’ll pass them all. Ride, ride, let the old tales start— A brave small flame in a traveler’s heart. [Outro] Under birch leaves, the old road turns, A silver thread through ember ferns. The tale goes on when the fires depart, A brave small flame in a traveler’s heart.