Wine from the blade on the night of the full moon Voices that call spirits in waiting Sharing the drink of the bond A broth of roots and charms Spells under a twisted tree
Heretic, burn at the cross Witch, float like a log
Flask over fire, from cobwebs of cellars Turning metal into gold A secret till the last word's untold
Accused and convicted For nothing I suffer your fear Nailed to a burning cross Heretic, heretic
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