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The goat keeper is mourning, because night has stolen his keep

The dark reveals the charge, these woods can procreate

In the royal court of hell, he is a jester

Bound tight to Satan's will, he lives to serve

All the others roam the hills, their conscience free to make believe

The Black Goat waits with ease, waits for the night to see

He never shows, 'cause of susceptibility

Grinding the bones of infants to make his morning tea

The Black Goat of the woods is hiding in shame

Causing Pain

(Chorus)

But on the battlefield, his sceptre turns to steel

And all who meet his blade know his name

Recreated, the sins of man his repertoire

See him changing, his evil's taking form

Pieces passed down through the ages, they fill him now

Sated, he murmurs ancient phrases, hear the Black Goat's song

Chorus (x 2)

Displayed on altars

Displayed on altars