Black Sabbath - Coven

They journeyed far to Brocken Mountain pinnacle

A gathering of dread, an awesome spectacle

Each in his hand, a candle of black

Their faces grave, a deathlike mask

The prince assumed the person of the goat

Reigning upon his throne distant and far remote

The cauldrons boiled as the fires burned

The deep’ning shadows, two figures turned

Bubbling pots of ungents and potions

Flames revealing the obscene motions

Old hags murmur in evil ranting!

Voices grow louder and join in the chanting

Infants' flesh they did offer

For the prince to devour

Covens join, all combine

Powers strong, thoughts align

If witchcraft all the fools condemn

It turns around and crushes them

When good has been twisted

When good has been killed

Then love is resisted and blood will be spilled

Accursed ye’ll be!

From toes to eyes!

Accursed ye’ll be!

Until ye dies!