The fen

Adorned with the bruise of the love bite
With eyes from the goat of the swamp
Beware of the look in the dark night
From the shroomed up teenage romp

Led by the light of the fullmoon
To a site of forbidden disgrace
The procession of underage vixens
Start to dance in the open space

La! La!
Hail to the goat of the old bog
Sancrus Wiru Akkha!
Rites in the face of the old bog

Gathered to kneel for the messenger
And the fury that lives in the ridge
They feast on the flesh of the sacrifice
Among the waters and swarms of midge

The roar of voluptuons fire
Leads the way with a distant-drone
The octopus under the mire
Comes to life every forth moon

La! La!
Hail to the goat of the old bog
Sancrus Wiru Akkha!
Rites at the edge of the ancient bog