The Call of the Ancient

There are women in my blood
Who learned to see the silence.
They taught me nothing.
Still, I remember.

I feel the hour turning
Before the clock can speak,
Time touches me
Before it makes a sound.
A door before it opens,
A name before it's said,
The shape of something coming,
I feel it all around.

They called it magic when I simply knew,
They called me witch, what else could they do?
They called me witch
Because "wise" was too dangerous a word.

I know
Before the night turns cold.
I know
Before the story's told.
There are women in my blood,
I hear them when the room goes still.
(the call of the ancient…)

I hear the call of the ancient
Moving under my skin,
A memory with no beginning
That I carry deep within.
A voice that never learned to die…

I know
Before the night turns cold.
I know
Before the story's told.
There are women in my blood,
I hear them when the room goes still.
(the call of the ancient…)

No cards.
No smoke.
No spell beneath the moon.
Just something old
Still breathing
Underneath my skin.

The call of the ancient doesn't come from behind,
It rises through me, deeper than time and mind.

I know
Before the night turns cold.
I know
Before the story's told.
There are women in my blood,
I hear them when the room goes still.
(the call of the ancient…)
(the call of the ancient…)

And when I know before I know why,
A voice that never learned to die…
I know it isn't only me.