To him oh shame, they're children, piteous babes  They slay their blood, they poured out in his name  With wailing cries and tears and rue  Called sadness need as pain they knew  The land of old centuries past has a story to be told  >From a time known as the iron age to the present secrets they do hold  Scotland, Denmark, Ireland and the British isle shores  Home the history of Druid worship and the Celtic tales unfold  Darkening themselves with grim understandings of mystic Celtic gods  Blood thirsty for their ritualistic slaughter they commit human life  To death they fall in wasted form to appease the earth and gods  Burned and slashed and drained of blood they're given in vain with ease  With grim grappling they reared this wind worm  Rain racked ring of late  Someone digging found a drift of white pebbles  A bronze knife and children's fire charred bones  Circular stones erected as a place of sacredness  Arranged for their temple of dedicatory offerings  Monumentarily built thousands of years before the Lord's birth  These stones cradled little children to their incinerated death  Beltain fires burned a blaze atop the hills  Waiting for offerings they kill for the sake of the living  The fear of sickness and famine compel to dance this ceremony  The sun and the moon is for them death and life as they pass  Their fateful tears through this wicked age  Intervening the church witness the need for reform on their Godless  pagan day  Yeilding to these calendar high points but people yearn for these  festive times  They change the name of their holiday to assume Christian status  Will they forsake ceremonies of old, do the religions of the seasons  fade away?  Now a day given much feeding as children dress  For trick or treat but under false lying pretense  Is the Autumn festival of Samhain  Funny how we celebrate the innocent slain  Through wars and age the practice seems to have passed away  But traces of that dark culture still surface today  Our culture plagued with fear and superstition as true evil  Burns it's way through the age, will it's never ending  Destructive touch find a place in your life?  Our ancestry to these spirits  Life was given so life could be sustained  And forthright season by season, death by death  Through that brief generation  Of that far departed age  Brings us now to the present  And much can be explained