It's nearly spring, my favorite time
We've got to make sure of field and vine
Our king found the bean, almost a year ago
It's time to slice him open and make his blood flow
So -- our -- grains -- will -- grow

Chorus:
Lets Sacrifice the King around the old oak tree
It's that time of year
The fields are thirsty
If we fail to wrap his innards round the old oak tree
Then the crops won't grow
And then you know
We'll are starve in misery
So let's sacrifice the king around the old, oak tree.

Oh Druid please look and see
What omens do his entrails have for me
Will the crops be bountiful, will sheep have enough wool
I hope the royal sacrifice will keep the Old Gods cool
It's -- an -- old -- established -- Rule

Chorus:

The deed is done, our crops will grow
Now let's feast, and soon a new King we will know
If you discover a bean in your barley cake tonight
Then for the next year, you'll sample each delight
For -- a year --- you'll -- know -- delight.

Until the druids say

Chorus:

Something that might have been sung at a spring equinox festival. I heard the song on the radio and the title popped up. I just couldn't help myself.