In darkness you paint us, but we will not hide.
We're the light of the country in which you abide,
we're fearless and strong, the protectors of life
hidden in shadows, we conquer all strife.
We come from the Old Ones, our lineage secure.
We rise from the ashes, we always endure.
It's time you remembered that we were here first.
We healed your sick, yet suffered your worst.
From time immemorial we've woven our lore
cunning folk, healers, benandanti--there's more.
We're black and we're white, we're brown and we're yellow.
We're women and children, and mighty fine fellows.
We're Her hidden children, the angels of light,
our task is to teach and to help set things right.
We conjure and cast, and whisper and pray
so you can enjoy your freedom each day.
We've long been your army, protecting your back
when you are in trouble, in secret we act.
The Mother is watching--She hasn't missed much.
She's gathered Her magick and given the touch
to Witches and Pagans and Druids and such!
The times are a'changing and one thing is clear
the Lord and the Lady have now reappeared.
Two pillars, three points, four quarters extend
five is the number of magickal blend.
By moon and by sun, by earth and by stars
realize this day that the power is ours!
Pagan pride--
Live it, breathe it, be it.
