Burning to the Skies

In white robes the maidens walk around the log house in the candle flame There they will guess the day in which they will weave the crops In the witches' arc and chorus of lights To you under the canopy of oil will indicate the place, The place where lies a fog cloud Burning to the skies, fires are known The red demon laughs under the naked witches' passion Wax in hand, I squeeze a black lump I can not believe what I saw since Silhouette above the tree Gigantic handful They burn sorter, crosses and their priests Relish this hour gives to us The day is here and now Poison snake ejacuate I'll sweat my veins!