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