Oh woe be to he who cannot see
By the light of night
Where my twelve daughters be
He shall be murdered by morning three
for failing to find in the depths of twilight
Oh woe be to he who cannot see
The task is simple, yet will end me
Is there one who can find with heart and might
Where my twelve daughters be?
Silver and gold twigs made with glee
Across a lake with dawn's first light
Oh woe be to he who cannot see
Why do they go, flirt, and dance merrily?
With disregard for futures bright
Where my twelve daughters be
Here are my daughters twelve, please choose one, I beg of thee
Restored to me is a future bright
Oh woe be to he who cannot see
Where my twelve daughters be