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United States 
froggies and lambs in eerie trance.
Their eyes ignite like burning flame,
whispers that promise peace in vain.
The altar glows with colors bright,
necklaces, teddies, faith in sight.
The flock proclaims its love and song,
a chant both tender, strange, and strong.
“Stay still, little prophet, in fright,”
the moon observes in secret delight,
and the game becomes a ritual night.
Chant, chant, the circle tight,
chant, chant, through endless night,
chant, chant, the prophet’s plight,
chant, chant, in shadowed light.
⣿⣿⣿⣿⢰⣿⣿⣌⣍⠄⣆⠄⡆⢀⣙⣡⣿⣿⢸⣿
⣿⣿⣿⡟⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣾⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⠏⣾⣿
⣿⣿⠏⣴⣿⣿⣿⠛⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠻⣿⣴⡌⡿⣿
⣟⣛⢈⣹⣿⣿⣿⣦⣥⣿⢯⠉⣿⣷⣬⣴⣿⣯⡲⠸⠿⢶
⣯⣿⢰⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣿
⣿⡿⣸⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⡇⣿
⣿⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣌⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣡⣾⣿⣿⠇⠹⣿⣿⡿⠛⢛⠻⣿
⣟⣀⣬⣿⣦⣝⠛⢃⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣘⢛⣫⣴⣿⠦⠄⢻⣿⢰⣦⣼⣷⢸
⡏⠉⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣤⢸⣿⡘⣿⡄⣶⣾
⡟⠛⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⢸⣿⢃⣿⣧⢸
⣧⢠⣾⣿⣿⣏⣛⡻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣋⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣭⡴⣿⡋⠋⣼
⣿⣦⡙⢿⡿⠿⢿⣿⠆⣿⣿⣿⣿⠸⡿⠟⡋⠼⢛⣛
⡎⢸ ⠉⠐⠢⢌⠑⢄ ⡸ ⡆ ⠣⠱⡀
⡇⢸ ⣀⠗ ⠉⠉⠁ ⠙⠢⠤⡀⢃⢱
⡇⠘⣄⢀⠔⠉ ⠈⠁⠘⡄
⢇ ⠁ ⠘⡄
⢸ ⢀⣀⣀⡀ ⢀⣀⣀⡀ ⢣
⡸ ⢴⣾⡿⠿⠽⠇ ⠘⠛⠛⠛ ⠈⢄
⠰⡁ ⢠⠒⠢⡀⠈⠒⠊ ⡠⢄ ⡘
⠱⣀ ⢀⠜ ⠇ ⢀⠔⠁ ⡏
⠑⠤⢄⣀⠔⠁ ⡜ ⠊⠁ ⢀⠜