Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
who's the fairest of them all?
Is it she with the ebony hair,
and eyes as blue as the sea and air?
Lips as scarlet as her blood,
be it her, I think it should.
But I wish to be the only one
more beautiful than the sinking sun-
So I'll send a man to cut her down
and her cry will be the sweetest sound
that I ever heard and she ever made,
as her blood runs through her forest glade.
Of flesh and skin the animals maul,
across the bones the weeds will crawl.
And then, oh mirror, on the wall,
then I'll be the fairest of them all.