The piper plays a tune,
as witches dance in the moon.
This song, this tune, this moon,
reveals our power soon.
In our covens lie our strength,
our chants and cries and moans.
This song, this tune, this moon,
our coven soon to rule.
Despair not , oh darling young witch,
for your day of glory comes with swift.
This song, this tune, this moon,
grants you all power and soon!