As the full moon hangs o’er the mossy moors,
And ghouls dance to the songs of wars,
And the silence creeps up the stony path,
One step at a time into the sorcerer’s wrath.
The witch’s house sits atop the hill
Where evil lurks around the still.
Don’t go near or let her find you.
You’ll be caught up in the witch’s brew.
Where’s she to be found on the clammy night?
Nobody knows she stays out of sight.
Some say they saw her riding ‘cross the sky
On her broom way up where the eagles fly.
The stroke of midnight was about to come after,
When lo behold a sound of witch’s laughter,
Cut thru’ the air like a drunken piper,
A sound so loud it stung like a piper.
There she goes, riding into the moon,
Where evil sent forth from her bestial womb,
That lady and all her powers uniting,
Far o’er the hills I saw that witch’s sighting.