A stormy night of deadly proportions Hidden in an old barn a peasant woman lies About to give birth to a bastard child
Wanted for a crime she never understood She's just a scapegoat, they say she's but a whore Killed her lover, hung him by the neck Now the witchhunter lusts for her head
Going into labour, she just can't keep still Screams of pain echo in the night The vengeful mob breaks open the door The finger points the order: "Kill the whore"!
Rusty knives are cutting though her neck Carving up her stomach, ripping out her son "Take the bastard child away it will be dealt with, within time"!
As they march down the road Back to city hall An eerie voice wails; "I will have your children's souls"!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
