Look through the people and on through the mist
To the hill of the headless cross,
Where all witches meet, on a night such as this
And the power of darkness is host
They come face to face, eye to eye, soul to soul,
With an angel that fell from the sky.
Borne on the air, lot of screams and the wails
Of the masses appointed to die.
Listen for the feet as they pound the land to a tune of thunder
Watch as the legions ride again to a fate of death or torture,
At the headless cross, at the headless cross.
From the first...
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