Yes, to the darkest place that we knownOutside of the rider's domainnTo the heart of the woodnTo the hidden places beyond the briar thicketsnnThe dance must begin as dusk gathers aroundnnOur skin drum and rattlenknow the tunenjaw bone driven throughnthe skull of a great foenbested with wooden spearnthe tip hardened in firennBathe in the clear cold streamnFresh water from the unsullied endless spring that flows from thenmountainnWe will sing the most ancient songnSpark the fire upon dry tindernnThe dance must begin as dusk gathers aroundnnOur skin drum and rattlenknow the tunenjaw bone driven throughnthe skull of a great foenbested with wooden spearnthe tip hardened in fire