No one knows whence it came
Swift spirit of the old country
Beast come up from the depths of hell
Foul spawn of the ancient ones
On leathery wings it tears through the night
Taloned claws and a gazing eye
Beak of steel filled with stabbing teeth
'Round which wriggles arms of seething slime
Howling and screeching in the light of the moon
Swooping down like an arrow keen and true
Nails like meathooks rip its prey from the ground
Carried unseen into the shadows of the mountains
The hunting party wanders through wooded hills
Following broken branches and vile filth
Coming to the place where the demon did the deed
Poor soul emptied of life and blood
Terror spreads through the mountain towns
"Our doom is nigh, 'tis the coming of the beast"
Sign of the hex with its seven pointed star
Futily striving to keep the demon at bay
The Snallygaster knows no law
Abides not hexes nor prayers of men
d**h is coming on leathery wings
Ruin roars in the Blue Ridge