Witch hour’s here... now rise. Their wicked goats take to the night lit sky. They ride through meadows... down south On cloven hoofs without a trembling sound.
Now speak, that godless oath. Renounce, hail to the dark Rejoice, in blackened cloaks They ride, above the smoke.
The soulless riders... descent. Along the pastures all that’s green turns black Veiled by the moon... at night When all is dark they’ll steal your wretched soul.