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