Adorned with the bruise of the love bite With eyes from the goat of the swamp Beware of the look in the dark night From the shroomed up teenage romp Led by the light of the fullmoon To a site of forbidden disgrace The procession of underage vixens Start to dance in the open space La! La! Hail to the goat of the old bog Sancrus Wiru Akkha! Rites in the face of the old bog Gathered to kneel for the messenger And the fury that lives in the ridge They feast on the flesh of the sacrifice Among the waters and swarms of midge The roar of voluptuons fire Leads the way with a distant-drone The octopus under the mire Comes to life every forth moon La! La! Hail to the goat of the old bog Sancrus Wiru Akkha! Rites at the edge of the ancient bog