THE RETURN OF THE TRIUMPHANT HERETIC

The sky is grey and the cold doesn't leave rest
We are collapsing under the snow in a unnatural silence
The fairies under the ice have slept for centuries
We won't wake them and we'll run home

Uncork wine bottles and fill my cup!
We'll dance over the altars to God's glory
In the name of the witches and the supposed sinners
Let's dance glorifying the players

Look at those pedants that scan the consciences
Those men without glory that trust in hell
Stop praying and help me to light a fire
That warms up this winter

If the fatal spirits will come to disturb us
We'll offer them our wine
And if they refuse it we won't give up
And drag them in the dancing vortex