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The Black Tor
06:33
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The Black Tor
Standing proud and alone
Atop a northern plateau
Swirling and bitter winds
Howl like a thousand wolves
Under a blanket of black and silver
We gather as if a wolven pack
To worship and to honour
The lunar sphere enshrouded in black
High up in the peak of the dale
Terrain is barren and bare
From twilight to the dawning hours
The moor lands bask in the lunar glare
Ceremonial fires are lit
O'er the Pennine path
Rhymes are chanted and tales are told
Celebrating the gods of old
Feel the embrace of the moon once more
The ritual lives on as once before
The call of the heathen inside us all
As we summon together on the black tor
Hear the shrieking howl
Feel the lashing bite
See the barren land
Majestic and grand
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