He Returns in the Sinister Circle

Ancient druidic rites from a thousand years past Robes and knives, a stone circle The dancing, the cackling Will summon him, the lord of all death If the stars are aligned If dark hearts are true The spilling of fresh blood Naked women, gyrating, sweating Trying to call him Survivors of an antediluvian sect Red eyes look through masks Under a moonlit sky This focal point, a crucible Incubating the master of disease Beseeching stench and pestilence To swallow the continents