The witches' song

Foe of Heaven, King of Hell,
For you we're striking our bell,
Prince of this world, Prince of vice,
For you we kiss an ass of mice,
Count of lies and Count of joys,
You forg'd a lot of wondrous toys,
Join the Esbath of this moon,
Come and play your witches soon.


Lead us with your goathead's horn,
Send the society your scorn,
And when you join us please don't hide
Your phallos ready for a ride;
An only Godhead we become,
When you cum, and cum, and cum,
So at the orgies of the Witches,
Make us Goddesses and bitches.


We follow the Dyonisian rule,
The Saint Menads we emule,
We follow Pan, the Horned God,
And every wood is our abode,
We follow Diana and we believe
To wash out pain, to wash out grieves,
We dance and sing around a tree:
" Do what thou wilt, and let it be. "


The ceremony is finished,
Every charm is accomplished,
We're going home and we desire,
In your arms yet to perspire,
We meet happy, and happy go,
Happy we'll return and lo!
For you we'll strike another bell,
Oh! Foe of Heaven, King of Hell.