THE SIDHE

When the moon is full

On a starless night

A lone Sidhe puts his lips to the horn

And he begins to blow

The music echoes through the fog

Each Sidhe picks up the song

The grey horses lift their ears

Answer the call, then begins to run across the bog

They ride in the wild hunt

Strange wild and free

The mist roils as they fly

Everyone douth flee

They ride through the forest dark

The ground is hard

They kill on a lark

Full of the battle lust

A fire burns inside their hearts

Driving others to pain

They destroy, they hurt

For nothing to gain

When the moon is full

On a starless night

A lone Sidhe puts his lips to the horn

And he begins to blow