One day whilst out exploring in some

far-flung foreign corner, I took respite

from my journey to admire the local fauna.

When from the twilight distance a peel of

bells and laughter, set my heart-strings

fluttering like bats through chapel rafters.

On entering a clearing I did sense

impending peril, beheld a Gypsy wench

with flashing eyes bright, sharp and feral.

She smiled at me so sweetly

(bit a lip that smacked of danger),

gave a look fit to disarm

this poor, unwitting stranger.



[Chorus]

Her rhythm pounced upon me

it trounced me in a trice.

That charm she wove about me

gripped me tight as any vice.

(She spoke in tongues above me).

Though I cast my eyes to Christ,

you'd need the virtue of a saint

to not succumb - overcome this

Polkageist.



Arms of ivory strummed perfection

summond me toward the middle.

Pan warmed up his pipes

heard Herne a plucking at the fiddle.

She wrapped herself about me

(felt her hot breath at my ear);

Danced a horizontal polka

down the path to Hell I fear.



We're on a path to Hell I fear!



[Chorus]

Her rhythm pounced upon me

it trounced me in a trice.

That charm she wove about me

gripped me tight as any vice.

(She spoke in tongues above me).

Though I cast my eyes to Christ,

you'd need the virtue of a saint

to not succumb - overcome this

Polkageist.



The Horny Huntress:

"A spirit sent to haunt you

taunting all your earthly days.

Satyrs vaunt

cavorting to the reel Cernunnos plays.

I head our wild procession

(every beast from man to mouse),

finds freedom in possession

Polkageist is in the house!"



Juice of fruit beyond forbidden

dripping slowly from her fingers,

she took my hand and led me

to that place where cunning lingers.



[Chorus]

Her rhythm pounced upon me

it trounced me in a trice.

That charm she wove about me

gripped me tight as any vice.

(She spoke in tongues above me).

Though I cast my eyes to Christ,

you'd need the virtue of a saint

to not succumb - overcome this

Polkageist.