Instrumente
Ensembles
Genres
Komponiste
Presteerders

Lirieke: Darkwoods My Betrothed. Burn, Witches, Burn.

"He must be the root of all this misery
The ladies, whores, a Satan's tool to send us to eternity
Ring, brothers, ring the bells and bring the torches
Let us tie them up to the stake - burn, witches, burn"

Finally the men of the town could point the guilt to someone
Of course it had to be the stranger
Following their wives at night they had found the orgies
Rituals to bring forth the powers of Hell

"How could you our beloved wives
Grant your bodies to be used to do evil
On him we know no mercy, nor can we give you any
Follow us to the hills - burn, witches, burn"

First they surrounded the guest house where the preacher
Was sleeping off the exertions of the night
A cross-shaped pole they drove through his black heart

Sending him to join his master in the pits of Hell

The few women still considered faithful
Were told to stay at home
While the others were being marched to the hills
These women gathered...
The guilty women of the town were taken to the hills
Where huge bonfires were standing
Tied up to the stakes they were - naked to face the god
In tears they cried: "We were possessed!"

"In the name of the holy trinity
Be purified by these flames
We pray for your souls on your way to damnation
For all the evil you have done - burn, witches, burn"