A Handful Of Dust

In darkest night What stalks our nightmares? If flesh will fail us And mind is slow My feral children Will don the wolfskin Will raise the hammer And strike the blow And in your raging thirst, I offer you only this - A handful of dust, a horn full of piss! May all your seed fall upon a barren soil Your issue come to nothing Ruin in spite of toil In foulest dreams What beasts of chaos Will bring us fever Will cause us doubt? My feral children Will don the wolfskin Will raise the hammer To cast them out!