| One day whilst out exploring in some far-flung foreign corner, | |
| I took respite from my journey to admire the local fauna. | |
| When from the twilight distance a peel of bells and laughter, set my heart-strings fluttering like bats through chapel rafters. | |
| On entering a clearing | |
| I did sense impending peril, beheld a | |
| Gypsy wench with flashing eyes bright, sharp and feral. | |
| She smiled at me so sweetly (bit a lip that smacked of danger), gave a look fit to disarm this poor, unwitting stranger. [Chorus] | |
| Her rhythm pounced upon me it trounced me in a trice. | |
| That charm she wove about me gripped me tight as any vice. (She spoke in tongues above me). | |
| Though I cast my eyes to | |
| Christ, you'd need the virtue of a saint to not succumb - overcome this | |
| Polkageist. | |
| Arms of ivory strummed perfection summond me toward the middle. | |
| Pan warmed up his pipes heard | |
| Herne a plucking at the fiddle. | |
| She wrapped herself about me (felt her hot breath at my ear); | |
| Danced a horizontal polka down the path to | |
| Hell I fear. | |
| We're on a path to | |
| Hell I fear! [Chorus] | |
| Her rhythm pounced upon me it trounced me in a trice. | |
| That charm she wove about me gripped me tight as any vice. (She spoke in tongues above me). | |
| Though I cast my eyes to | |
| Christ, you'd need the virtue of a saint to not succumb - overcome this | |
| Polkageist. | |
| The Horny | |
| Huntress: "A spirit sent to haunt you taunting all your earthly days. Satyrs vaunt cavorting to the reel Cernunnos plays. I head our wild procession (every beast from man to mouse), finds freedom in possession Polkageist is in the house!" | |
| Juice of fruit beyond forbidden dripping slowly from her fingers, she took my hand and led me to that place where cunning lingers. [Chorus] | |
| Her rhythm pounced upon me it trounced me in a trice. | |
| That charm she wove about me gripped me tight as any vice. (She spoke in tongues above me). | |
| Though I cast my eyes to | |
| Christ, you'd need the virtue of a saint to not succumb - overcome this | |
| Polkageist. |
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