by Peter Loaf
Conjugal visit, down by the stream
My chains I’m wearing, the metal gleam
My Master will come
As soon as they drum
Sharp horns and goat hooves, the demon team
The Churchmen mumble, I get the gist
My demon trapping, top of their list
His trap they’re baiting
The devil hating
Accused witch drowning, ankles to wrists
The big drum’s thunder, millpond boiling
Hot stink of sulfur, the holy foiling
His horns rising first
The churchmen dispersed
Conjugal visit, tail un-coiling
Hands and feet shackled, spread like a clam
The Millpond empties, zapping the dam
The village flattened
Sacrifice fattened
His semen potent, His penis jam
