Welcome Lords and Ladies; Tarts and Trollope; Friars and Flagellants
As we open this glorious season of killing, in Jesus name.
Reach into the Crypt, for there your future lies
Free you from your past, and all your human ties
Happy little larval friends will dine upon your skin.
We'll pocket your gold teeth before we notify your kin.
Bury you beneath the shade of the old hanging tree.
Burn you at the stake and then we'll dance in ecstasy.
Purified by fire you see
The Truth will set you free.
We'll feel better when we know you're there eternally.
We're roasting a witch on a stick
In makes me dance three quarter time
I heard she had a heretic stick
And that does it for me just fine
Oh but it gives me such glee
And I'm so glad it's her and not me
Bring your marshmallows and your holy bible
We're roasting a witch on a stick.
Now push forward, don't be shy
We have a big crowd of the faith today
There are bushels of rotten fruit and vegetables out back of the pyre.
So help yourself, we need your support.
Open your fine muscles then we'll pour the boiling oil.
Scream out your confession, shuffling off your human coil.
What's healing you is saintly work,
God knows how the priests toil
But we'll feel better when you're safe and six feet in the soil.
Can't allow the sacrilege,
You took his name in vain.
All blasphemers pay the price for doing deeds for vain
Put you on the rack and then we stretch you til you pop.
Know that once you tasted blood it's hard to make it stop.
This is the two o'clock immolation, the two o'clock immolation
Only ticket holders for the two o'clock immolation will be allowed in the town square.
Stack your limbs on wooden pipes and then scatter them around,
Out to the distant corners of the pious little town.
Don't let a small dismemberment go and get you down.
Last week we tied one to a stone in the lake and watched her drown.
Bring your marshmallows and your holy bible
We call it a ritual, we never say tribal
It's simply a matter of relevant survival
We're roasting a witch on a stick.