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