he night was dark/moon was full/fog was thick/the air
was cool
The sense was set without regret, all that come shall
not forget
They gathered here and all did follow
To greet the child of no tomorrow
To see the speed of life and death
To feel the strength of Satan's breath
It happens every hundred years
When mortals choose their strengh in fear
They'll sacrifice a newborn child
Bred to die all the while
Friday's child will die at birth, a test of faith to prove
their worth
They conjure Satan to bring him higher
The infant screams while bathing in fire
The Mass of Hoods that make the crows close to Death
Chants get loud....
The Witch is cast into labor....
She pleads but nothing can save her
Sound of birth - hear it cry
Soaked in blood - ready to die