“And when the gyre slowly turn
And cut into the bone
The fire lit, the soul will burn
Til nought be left but stone
The ageless one can sleep no more
The Wraith has circled thrice
That He may rise who came before
To weave His ring of ice
What is up shall then be down
What is far be near
For He shall come to wear the crown
And He shall rule by fear
And nought but they who know the book
Can hope to break His spell
Yet well we know a single look
Can burn the Devil well
Sing the ancient words aloud
Write them on the air
Turn His mantle to a shroud
His glory to despair
Oh ageless one I call ye now
I call thee from thy sleep
A single strike upon His brow
And let the blade go deep
Oh let the gyre slowly turn
And cut into the bone
A fire lit, a soul to burn
Til nought be left but stone”