Deep in the woods where the shadows grow tall, A crimson eye watches the forest fall. Four figures kneel in the mist and the pine, Tracing the lines of a dark design. Candles flicker low on the freezing ground, As ancient whispers begin their sound. Chorus Oh, under the blood moon, the ritual wakes, The earth in the grip of the coven quakes. Horned queen rising in black and red, Calling the power from down with the dead. Blood moon rising, fierce and bright, We own the dark of the midnight flight. Mist rolls in from the ancient trees, Carrying secrets upon the breeze. Skulls in the dirt where the magic burns, As the wheel of the hidden midnight turns. Two sisters hooded, with faces of bone, Kneel at the feet of the iron-crowned throne. Chorus Oh, under the blood moon, the ritual wakes, The earth in the grip of the coven quakes. Horned queen rising in black and red, Calling the power from down with the dead. Blood moon rising, fierce and bright, We own the dark of the midnight flight. Bridge The cauldron boils with a fiery gleam, Splitting the veil of a waking dream. With open palms and a chant aloud, They summon the storm from the crimson cloud! Outro Red moon fading... Shadows retreating... The coven remains... Until the dark returns.
