Charity Absurd Lyrics
| Song | Charity Absurd |
| Artist | Haggard |
| Album | Progressive |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| The murmur grows - until they rage | |
| It is not a scenery | |
| At this market-place in middle-ages | |
| Somebody - in the crowd - | |
| Speaks a prayer | |
| Hundred burning torches rise | |
| In their light appears the silhouette | |
| Of a mighty FUNeral pile | |
| Headling with some unknown herbs | |
| - Rising suspicion - | |
| "Death" - they say - | |
| "is what she deserves!" | |
| - An innocent victim - | |
| "Instruments of torture | |
| will tell us the truth!" | |
| And it feels like | |
| Oooohhh... | |
| "I'm representing the church | |
| Somebody said, in you might lurk | |
| Things - still not seen by human eyes | |
| Is is dark magic, you are practicing?" | |
| After there are no tears left | |
| And they thought, they'd feaced the fact | |
| "Nothing is as it should be | |
| You're accused of witchery!" | |
| "If there is a creator | |
| If there is a god... | |
| You will pay for all the dead | |
| There's punishment above! | |
| And somebody outside | |
| this chamber of horror | |
| Knows my fear, knows my sorrow | |
| YOU preach, how could I learn? | |
| 'cause in this faith is | |
| CHARITY ABSURD!" | |
| After this words wer spoken | |
| The cowd wants to see her die | |
| The way to the confessor | |
| Will it be the last one in her life? | |
| The murmur grows - until they rage | |
| And somebody speaks a prayer | |
| A prayer... |
| The murmur grows until they rage | |
| It is not a scenery | |
| At this marketplace in middleages | |
| Somebody in the crowd | |
| Speaks a prayer | |
| Hundred burning torches rise | |
| In their light appears the silhouette | |
| Of a mighty FUNeral pile | |
| Headling with some unknown herbs | |
| Rising suspicion | |
| " Death" they say | |
| " is what she deserves!" | |
| An innocent victim | |
| " Instruments of torture | |
| will tell us the truth!" | |
| And it feels like | |
| Oooohhh... | |
| " I' m representing the church | |
| Somebody said, in you might lurk | |
| Things still not seen by human eyes | |
| Is is dark magic, you are practicing?" | |
| After there are no tears left | |
| And they thought, they' d feaced the fact | |
| " Nothing is as it should be | |
| You' re accused of witchery!" | |
| " If there is a creator | |
| If there is a god... | |
| You will pay for all the dead | |
| There' s punishment above! | |
| And somebody outside | |
| this chamber of horror | |
| Knows my fear, knows my sorrow | |
| YOU preach, how could I learn? | |
| ' cause in this faith is | |
| CHARITY ABSURD!" | |
| After this words wer spoken | |
| The cowd wants to see her die | |
| The way to the confessor | |
| Will it be the last one in her life? | |
| The murmur grows until they rage | |
| And somebody speaks a prayer | |
| A prayer... |
| The murmur grows until they rage | |
| It is not a scenery | |
| At this marketplace in middleages | |
| Somebody in the crowd | |
| Speaks a prayer | |
| Hundred burning torches rise | |
| In their light appears the silhouette | |
| Of a mighty FUNeral pile | |
| Headling with some unknown herbs | |
| Rising suspicion | |
| " Death" they say | |
| " is what she deserves!" | |
| An innocent victim | |
| " Instruments of torture | |
| will tell us the truth!" | |
| And it feels like | |
| Oooohhh... | |
| " I' m representing the church | |
| Somebody said, in you might lurk | |
| Things still not seen by human eyes | |
| Is is dark magic, you are practicing?" | |
| After there are no tears left | |
| And they thought, they' d feaced the fact | |
| " Nothing is as it should be | |
| You' re accused of witchery!" | |
| " If there is a creator | |
| If there is a god... | |
| You will pay for all the dead | |
| There' s punishment above! | |
| And somebody outside | |
| this chamber of horror | |
| Knows my fear, knows my sorrow | |
| YOU preach, how could I learn? | |
| ' cause in this faith is | |
| CHARITY ABSURD!" | |
| After this words wer spoken | |
| The cowd wants to see her die | |
| The way to the confessor | |
| Will it be the last one in her life? | |
| The murmur grows until they rage | |
| And somebody speaks a prayer | |
| A prayer... |
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