Witchfinder General - Paul Roland

Where the plague has scourged no crops will grow

Even ravens feed from the gallows pole

A fallow land bled by civil war

Where all are prey to the inquisitor

He comes to carve to cure the beast

With the burning zeal of a perverted priest

His pageant like a funeral cortage

Heralding a grim and new dark age

From the churchyard to the village square

Where the priest intones a mocking prayer

Innocents are dragged screaming through the streets

To teed the flames and Puritan conceit