Sif's Hoedown

Bare feet in the barley

Dust on the hem of her dress

Gold hair rolling like sunrise

Every stalk leaning to bless

Kids chase hens by the hay bales

Old folks hum an ancient tune

Sif laughs low at the doorway

Braids shining like a harvest moon

Swing it round at Sif's hoedown

Stamp that floor

Let the fields shake now (Hey!)

Bless this dirt

This bread

This town

By the glint of her golden crown

Raise your cups and call her name

Through the storm and the hail and the hard years' pain

We're still here on this sacred ground

Spinning joy at Sif's hoedown

Trickster slipped in like a shadow

Steel in the twist of his grin

One sharp snip in the lamplight

Wheat fell like rain on the wind

Thor swore oaths like thunder

Whole hall holding its breath

Who dares shear the pride of the plowland

Who toys with the bride of the tempest

Swing it round at Sif's hoedown

Stamp that floor

Let the fields shake now (Hey!)

Bless this dirt

This bread

This town

By the glint of her golden crown

Raise your cups and call her name

Through the storm and the hail and the hard years' pain

We're still here on this sacred ground

Spinning joy at Sif's hoedown

Down in the deep of the mountain

Hammers sang over stone

Dwarven hands wove sunlight

Into roots of her skull and bone

Now every row that ripens

Every loaf that cools on the sill

Is a promise braided in bright strands

That the land and the love stand still

Swing it round at Sif's hoedown

Stamp that floor

Let the fields shake now (Hey!)

Bless this dirt

This bread

This town

By the glint of her golden crown