You can say your prayers, work your rites burn your little candles day and night you can shimmy 'til dawn to the pounding drums but you best be ready when the Horned One comes, yeah
If you wake to the sound of a hunting horn, dance a ring in the gathering storm. If the Solstice time gets your panties in a wad, it's just the coming of the Horned God
chorus He will call you out, make you sweat, give you a blessing that you'll never forget. So revel in the chase and let your heartbeat run: Blessed are the children of the Horned One!
Hunter who tracks outside of time, guardian lord of ancient rhyme, brother stag in the musky glen and consort of the Goddess in her woodland den, we call you forth as we make our way, walking in your power every day. Guide us true in our hunt this night and maybe even later in the Great Rite!
chorus He will call you out...
If you wake to the sound of a hunting horn dance a ring in the gathering storm revel in the chase and let your heartbeat run but you'd best be ready, little one! You'd best be ready when the Horned One comes!