Metastophaliese

I summon thee
And I call to thee
I set thee free
Metastophaliese
Birds fly too soon the they day
To live again, once again
Metastophaliese
Hi-de-hi, I hide the day
I hide the night
When it is time I hide thee away
Metastophaliese
In the crossroads I do sit
In the dirt I spit my spit
You are me and I am you
Come in the form of a comely young youth
Not as a fierce ferocious brute
I suck your juice and eat your fruit
Your blood is my blood
My skin is your skin
Come, cut me and I bleed, Metastophaliese
You are my kin, my, your sin is my sin
Come thee!
Come to me, Metastophaliese
Metastophaliese
Oh, great one, old and son
There is none compared to thee
Metastophaliese