In the midnight sea of darkness the boiling blood moon is calling you Her mesmerising eye is dragging you down Hunger, Wytch Naked in the woods, we hunt the offering down: She's ours On the sacrificial mound, we indulge on the flesh Hunger, Wytch Stab, stabbing the womb Hands tearing the flesh Wytch Hold innards high Start reading their signs Wytch, oooh Wytch You are next to die