Queen Mab

The cover of the wings of grasshoppers
The traces of the smallest spider’s web
The collars of the moonshine’s watery beams
Ooh
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers
The traces of the smallest spider’s web
The collars of the moonshine’s watery beams
Ooh
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers
The traces of the smallest spider’s web
The collars of the moonshine’s watery beams
Ooh
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers
The traces of the smallest spider’s web
The collars of the moonshine’s watery beams
O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you
She is the fairies' midwife and she comes in shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the forefinger of an alderman
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Athwart men’s noses as they lie asleep
Her wagon-spokes made of long spinners' legs
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers
The traces of the smallest spider’s web
The collars of the moonshine’s watery beams
Ooh
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers
The traces of the smallest spider’s web
The collars of the moonshine’s watery beams
Ooh
Her whip of a cricket’s bone, the lash of film
Her wagoner a small grey coated gnat
Not so big as a round little worm
Prick’d from the lazy finger of a maid
Her chariot is an empty hazelnut
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub
Time out o' mind the fairies' coach-makers
And in this state she… (gallops night by night) night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love
They dream
They dream
They dream of love
Ooh
The cover of wings of grasshoppers
The traces of the smallest spider’s web
The collars of the moonshine’s wat’ry beams
Ooh
The cover of wings of grasshoppers
The traces of the smallest spider’s web
The collars of the moonshine’s wat’ry beams
Ooh
Over courtiers' knees, that dream of court’sies straight
Over lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees
Over lady’s lips, who straight on kisses dream
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues
Because of their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are…
O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you
She is the fairies' midwife and she comes in shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the forefinger of an alderman
Drawn with a team of little atomies of Athwart men’s noses as they lies asleep