The skies above have darkened
THe stars have aligned
We're witness to a rite of black magic design

Master of witches
King of the chaos-sphere
Pastoral god whose altar burns with pagan fear


The Great God Pan
Born behind the stars

The ancients live again

Song of the woodlands

Pan Pipes are crying reeds
His maddened tune will lift the autumn leaves
We see the horned-one

We see his shape $$#ume
The form of laughing wines & sandalwood fumes