Wanderers Say Tribes Up North Cast No Spells Heed No Ghosts But Long Have I Sat Within These Halls Seeing Through Seeing All High Rites Elder Bong Barbarian Mysteries Within They Lie We're the Sorcerers Tribe Through Icy Planes We Ride Our Women are Witches Our Slaves are Demons Experimental Sorcery High Rites at the Altar of Satan Begin to Smoke