Of the woman, pride had got the better
And in disguise she went and met her
The girl now laying in a heap
All for jealousy running deep
Then heavily on the duchess lay regret
For of her stepdaughter she was now bereft
It wasn't until the apple fell
She thought, "Who was truly under spell?"
In a moment regaining her sanity
Then spinning 'round, looking frantically
Fear in her eyes, she turned and fled
Down the darkened road she sped
Swiftly returning to her empty home
Empty, yes, but not alone
Living yet not living, she returned to him
Now the closest had she to kin
She faced him, deed done, no other choice
Her last words echoing in mocking voice
"Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who's the fairest of them all?"
Opmerkingen