An eerie night bathed by moonlight on the Keighley Moors
A strange troop of men climb the hill again: Folk lock their doors
Lamps on the hillside – burning flames under crooked trees
And the old rock flaunts its silence in the winter's breeze
Come in child; don't let the devil in – hark not that lonely evil
These are strange times in which we dwell
The Dark Brothers in the mist
Follow the lull of their secret tryst
For the great God Jarbulon
An oath sworn on the Ashlar stone
Light the fire and I'll tell you a tale of the times long past
When the rock was still so ancient; there druids sat
In times of old in Brigantia's foldwhen the Celts held sway
The great rock stood and drank their blood on the solstice day
And in the Dark Age time when the Vikings arrived the dark rock saw
Infernal rites held to the skies and the lord of war
And I heard tell there that under Norman's glare
The Knights Templar came
To pray to the baphomet and their dark covens make
It's been many years since sabbats on the hill they reigned
And witches laughed through the hoary nights
Devils to raise
The grey stone sits in silence but its shadow looms
And called the souls of evil men towards their dooms
