Hymn To Herne

You can say your prayers, work your rites

Burn your little candles day and night

You can shimmy 'til dawn to the pounding drums

But you best be ready when the horned one comes, yeah

If you wake to the sound of a hunting horn,

Dance a ring in the gathering storm.

If the solstice time gets your panties in a wad,

It's just the coming of the horned god

Chorus

He will call you out, make you sweat,

Give you a blessing that you'll never forget.

So revel in the chase and let your heartbeat run:

Blessed are the children of the horned one!

Hunter who tracks outside of time,

Guardian lord of ancient rhyme,

Brother stag in the musky glen

And consort of the goddess in her woodland den,

We call you forth as we make our way,

Walking in your power every day.

Guide us true in our hunt this night

And maybe even later in the great rite!

Chorus

He will call you out...

If you wake to the sound of a hunting horn

Dance a ring in

The gathering storm

Revel in the chase and let your heartbeat run

But you'd best be ready, little one!

You'd best be ready when the horned one comes!

Chorus

He gonna call you out...