Bedight, this pre-aestival Festival drew darkly near And our delight at its festival Was a roar to rival loosed Fenrir
Let the Hellish celebrations begin Ragnarok is rolling, magma abrim The blackest mass the Brocken has ever seen Invoking Loki, smoking the red weed
We listen to the Glorification Of Chernobog in a fog of elation Denial is the vilest form of blasphemy
Standing on the cliffs that kiss burning winds We are risen together Brazen, exalting, a hiss of triumph rings I am yours ...Yours immortally
Tonight the rites are right for raising spirits on The Devil's Pulpit, The Witches Altar The dead will dance macabre To Chaos Magick psalters
A heavy thunder shadowing lightning Forged for Judgement Day Announces greater wonder, citing Heralds on the starry way
And I held you like St Vitus As the Sabbat Incept to play Before the fever swelled to bite us And we were swept to waylay May Day
Standing on the cliffs that kiss burning winds We are rising together Brazen, exalting, a hiss of triumph rings I am yours ...Yours immortally
Only those tortured Could profess such festive scenes And melodies Of raucous wrought debauchery
No arthritic, sullen Goya For this fresh Walpurgis Eve Our flesh it breathes Full of fantastic symphnoies
Witness the fires reflected in infernal eyes That blaze, alive Eternal ties Have trussed amazing lusts together
Procession, banquet, black mass, orgy
If our world were to cease right now In the midst of this Wide naked bliss, these started scared vows I would break the universe in two Just to side with you To face the jealous heavens down
Excite the terse miscarriage Of first light that thirsts to slay This night versed with the marriage Of you and I And all who dare to stray