Down fell the stars, as they
Splashed into the sea.
"Mi nomine Baphomet",
Come dance with me.
Sacrifice the virgins,
Spiritual rites.
Their master's time has come,
The moon is full tonight.
Drinking, dancing,
They worship, and toast
The devil, who's watching,
With demon's remote.
Fire, rising,
Racing in your blood.
Possessed, naive,
His service is done.
Bloody blasphemy.
Sinister's the word,
As the demon's take their fill.
An orgy's taking place,
Human blood will spill.
An act of worship,
As they conceive the ghouls.
Satan has their souls,
They sing pagan tunes.
The ceremony,
Is sure to be cursed.
They ask for his blessings,
But, down comes the worst.
Their bodies, soulless,
A corpse from the grave.
Their minds are helpless,
And, no-one can save
No-on can save themWhile they have been eating
The rain has started falling,
Gradually gathering in strength.
What began a drizzle
Has now become torrential,
And doesn't look like coming to an end.
The two bedraggled figures
That huddle in the doorway
With nothing vaguely waterproof to wear
Are now secretly wishing
They'd listened to their mothers
When being told to always be prepared.
Screaming
"Geronimo!",
They run for it, down the road.
With an arm around her waist,
He leads her to a place
He knows.
Soaked through, but happy,
They squelch up to the landing;
The room before them
Makes a welcome sight.
The coal fire is throwing
Strange shapes upon the hearth rug,
And crying out to be knelt down beside.
She pulls off her jumper
And flings it in the corner;
He picks it up and hangs it on a chair.
She puts on a record
And sings into her coffee.
He puts a blanket round her, sits her down
And dries her beautiful hair.