season of the witches they have gathered on the hill for the kill for the kill for the rite of sacrifice in their minds they are right the blood must flow tonight they believe they ll receive the gift of life itself flames are burning high all are they are servants of the fallen one he who turned away turned away from light they are witches witches of the magic witches of black magic in the darkness there s presence it s a calling and a sign he is here fell the fear hanging in the air and the flesh feed the flame so unholy yet divine and the fire in their eyes slowly fade and die flames are burning high all are here they are servants of the fallen one he who turned away turned away from light the flames are rising higher up this pagan rite of sacrifice makes your blood turn to ice their naked body s bathe in blood illuminated by the moon they know he will come soon have you seen the witches dance in the night by an open fire and their bodies move to the fiddle s tune for a single night each year all are here they are servants of the fallen one he who turned away turned away from light 