The spirit of the harlot that hath died in the streets
The spirit of the woman that hath died in childbirth
The spirit of the woman that hath died
Weeping with babe at the breast
The spirit of an evl man, one that haunteth the street
One that haunteth the bed
They are seven, seven are they
Those seven were born in the mountains of mashu called magick
They dwell in the caverns of the earth
Amid the desolate places of the earth they live
They are arrayed with terror among the elder gods
There is no knowledge of them, they have no name not in heaven nor on earth
They ride over the mountain of sunset and on the mountains of dawn they cry
Through the caverns of earth they creep, amid the desolate laces of the earth they lie
Nowhere are they known, not in heaven nor in the earth are they discovered
For their place is outside our place and between the angles of the earth
They lie in wait crouching for the sacrifice
They are the children of the undrworld
They are the burning pain that presseth itself on the back of man

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