Expectant we raise our muzzles to smell the air for hatred
we strain our ears for the sound of love.
We, the mute, lame, the stupid, the dull, the weak
We turn our blind eyes to the hunter's killer.
We raise our hands and voises in prayers for an answer.
Nine teeth jut up lining the maw of the living earth.
Return Hastur! Heed us!
Your Star Steeds, lord, the black night sky
Reuturn Hastur, Save us!
Iä! Great One! Iä! Great Hastur! Lead us!
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