| Lust he follows virtue close |
| Through the steaming woodlands |
| His darkened blood through bulging veins |
| Through the steaming woodlands |
| Virtue knows he follows softly |
| Through the steaming woodlands |
| Travel light the deathly shudder |
| Down the leafy pathway |
| The dim light she comes peering through the forest pines |
| And she knows by the sound of the baying |
| By the baying of the hounds |
| Diana Diana kick your feet up |
| Lust bares his teeth and whines |
| For he’s picked up the scent of virtue |
| And he knows the panic signs |
| Lust cries running with his eyes |
| The white-clad figure fleeting |
| Mud burns his eyes but desire burns his mind |
| Fear in her eyes as the forest grins through the steaming woodlands |
| Lust now his soul destroyed with enmity disarmed |