eleven mustachioed daughters
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Eleven moustachioed daughters
Running in a field of fat
The full moon high, the mandrake screams
"Please come to our Sabbat"
The changing children shiver
'Round the fire, their mothers dance
With strangely painted faces
That smile but never laugh
The crow pegged gibbet's victim
Swings broken in his cage
His hands cut down to make a crown
"To wear is our homage"
'Round and 'round the magic ring
Soft figures fastly rush
And wolf like things and toads with wings
Whisper wetly "Come with us"
The fresh plucked eye of a favorite cat
Pulped and mixed with a white hen's fat
A lapwing's wing and lion's gall
And belladonna to make your eye
Like a beast's
To anoint the body and make it shine
To drink and make thyself divine
To choose another's form and make it thine
And now they gibber blasphemy
And fill the fetid air
With ancient lies and leprous cries
"This night he will be there"
A madness has their mouths gaped wide
As one they sway and moan
And every brutish face is turned
To see our goat king's throne
Worship for Satan