Threads spin in and out churning within, calm without
Grey Penélope fading to grey
through each endless passing of the day
She sits before the loom,
and wove deceit, she spins sorrow
Having her for wife, soon be your woe
Threads spin in and out churning within, calm without
Grey Penélope fading to grey
through each endless passing of the day
She sits before the loom,
and wove deceit, she spins sorrow
Having her for wife, soon be your woe