through the valleys rising fog steaming woods and moss standing on the mountain top like a summit cross you see a figure raise its claws like a bird of prey people must have pissed him off he s in a bad mood indeed what is his concern what is his name shrubbery the warlock is mad again they leave their hideous waste around they crap in forest and stream bite the feeding hands of mother earth but they will run and scream you say you have no time for this well this time ignorance s no bliss i ll turn your gold into rats and turn your shoes into beechnuts so that wild pigs come 