Из альбома: Living With the Ancients
Io, Saturnalia! The gods will come tonight
We'll sit at their table, and sheir their infernal light
Oh Lord of Misrule, your song is never the same
And you never leave one, the same as when you came
Dark spirits will leave us now; the wind has filled with sighs
The roots of our witchery reach down toward the burning fires
We'll circle the hallowed tree and leave this world behind
Ascension through sorcery toward pleasures rare-to-find
I know, I know all too well
The wines of wizardry they're running through our spells
I know, I know all too well
This world of death, this world of squares
We'll leave it all for hell