11 Mustachioed Daughters - The Bonzo Dog Band

11 Moustachioed Daughters.

Running in a field of fat.

The full moon high, the mandrakes speak, please come

to our sabat.

The changing children shiver round the fire their

mothers dance.

Strangely painted faces that smile but never laugh.

The crow pecked gibbet’s victim, swings broken in his cage

His hands cut down to make a crown to wear as a

homage.

round and round the magic things our fingers fastly

rush

and wolf like things and toads with wings whisper wetly

«come with us»

fresh plucked eye of a favourite cat, pulped and mixed

with white hens fat, a lapwings wing, and lions roar, like belladonna to make

your eyes

Like a beast

to anoint the body and make it shine

to drink and make thyself divine

to choose another form and make it thine

and knowledge of a blasphemy

and fill the fetid air

with ancient lies

and leprous cries

this night he will be there

A madness has the mouthsgate wide,

as one they sway and moan,

and every brutish face is turned

to see our goat kings throne

worship for satan heehee