| The new full moon is on the rise
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| It’s the night before the meeting
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| The knife is cold in my hand
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| As I read my galders silently within
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| The night of fertility is here
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| The shadow of the hawthorn devoured
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| By the night as I prepare
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| Clouded full moon painting the sky
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| Relentless it stands
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| The towering stone of Kraka
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| A circle of fires burn this night
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| Naked bodies in the flickering light
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| An orgy of lust
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| A theatre of flesh
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| Born by earth, water, fire and blood
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| Naked flesh in the flickering light
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| A blot in the night for new life to come
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| They carry me up on the hill
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| They place me on the stone so old
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| Two goats hanging upside down
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| Above the stone of Kraka
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| The rite of Kraka
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| My voice is clear as ice:
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| «For the first you must walk through earth»
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| And they naked will crawl on the ground
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| «For the second you must walk through water»
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| And the naked will enter the cold brook
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| Until their hair will follow the stream
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| «For the third you must walk through fire»
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| And the naked will run through the fires of Kraka
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| My knife slits the throats of the goats as I silently repeat my galders
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| The blood of the two goats in two streams on each side of the stone
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| The naked must complete nine circles around the stone
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| And lick the blood of the goats nine times
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| An orgy of lust
|
| A theatre of flesh
|
| Born by earth, water, fire and blood
|
| Naked flesh in the flickering light
|
| A blot in the night for new life to come |