The fog blocks out the world
And hides the spells being weaved
All that may pass
Has already been foreseen
The end has been foreseen
The hunter's new tusk
The head of a witch
She resides in the gallows
Her appearance is masked
The dark murdered hope and reason
With instinct, the hunter repents
"Even in her throes of death
You cannot challenge a witch"
Conjuring in the name of sin
Forfeiting the day brings the devil's grin
Hunter knows he needs to make fast
Before the witch turns his hourglass