sons of perdition – witches lyrics
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
withered crops and skin that itches
pagan prayers howled at the moon
the hour of their destruction looms
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
they live not by our fair wishes
abhorrent gestures and ancient words
poison dram and bitter herbs
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
backs bent ‘neath our righteous switches
they serve not the god we do
so we break them under wheel and boot
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
in the caves and in the thickets
they send vile prayers into the night
under their curse we do indict
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
they wallow in ill-gotten riches
the butcher’s blade will cut and carve
so that our people shall not starve
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
the people have made their decision
to cut them down in squalid sin
to exterminate their kith and kin
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
hang like fruit, necks broke and twisted
cast them into the abyss
lest they call up a dread eclipse
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
dead eyes bulge and death nerve twitches
we light them up in offering
we heed not their cries of suffering
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
burn in piles or bloat in ditches
we set their bodies all ablaze
to cleanse the county of their ways
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
pay not heed to our religion
so blood is spilt and limbs are sawed
for ours is such a jealous god
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
buried deep in wells and trenches
where they’ll whisper not another sound
as they rot and run into the ground
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
with their inner sight and sundry stenches
a shuffling horde of satan’s slaves
they claw out of their moldy graves
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
all that we have left are wishes
which we scream into empty skies
devoid of ears, devoid of eyes
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
we’ve left behind our superst-tions
we pet-tion the celestial throne
as they tear our flesh, as they break our bones
magicians, witches, crones and b-tches
pointing fingers, spiteful liches
even now they don’t repent
but feast on vengence long undreamt
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