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The village green is filled with

grievous minds and troubled hearts

The ravens circle up above,

The dead are cleaned and bound

In silk, rosemary incense burns

The procession of the dead it starts,

no one cries, ravens laugh

Time and again,

the dying sun draws you in

But will it take thee?

Back to dust and wind again

To remember or rejoice

the suffering it ends

The wheels of time turn again

Crawl to the gates of the unknown realm

Plant the Rowan Bush, the portal

and the key

For the spirit must break free

Near or far, the horns draw you in

But will it save thee?

From life to worms my friend

In the dirt we will meet again

The sound is broken and the cups

are passed around

Our wild rites start anew

Dancing to out ancient songs,

The sittings of fate are played the same

Inhibition at no cost,

we drink to our pain and loss

We feast fro them now,

we will live and beat the drum

For the kings and queens of worms

will forever hear the sound