---

In the deep of the black forest,
we are walking to the
ancient stake.
I see her eyes wishing for freedom,
but they find a mortal pain.

A place where the evil screams,
where the witches burn in our rage.
We can't wait to see you in flames,
you are waiting for the last cold kiss.

The kiss of the death, old witch.
Monster, bad omen, dark beast.
You will suffer freak,
you will die in a single
scream of pain.
Say your last words, say them.

I'll return like a terrible pest.

Close to midnight, the winter cold.
The witch has got afraid,
the stake has started to burn.
Dancing flames are melting her feet,
and all are screaming,
screaming for her death.

But the ashes are flying in the air,
flying to the storm, the dark tempest.
Now we see the curse in a black rain
and soon we'll see our land in
a slowly death.

We didn't care the words of her spell.
Wanted her soul destroyed
and far away.
Because her bastard is a
shadows servant.

Will be disgrace.

The bastard of the witch,
hunter of souls.
Is coming with the war.

Crack of doom.

---

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