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