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Grand master of the Sabbath, John Fane |
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Told his coven gathered: "Kill King James" |
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Wax a figure of his image & wrap it in his clothing |
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Burn it slowly whist he is sleeping |
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Feed him with poison, bring the monarchy down |
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Our sin is rebellion, in black arts crowned |
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3 covens of 39 |
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In 1591 that night performed a rite |
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A grand Sabbath with one aim in sight |
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To destroy the king of England |
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Create a storm, whilst overseas he sails |
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To bring his Danish bride to these Isles |
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They christened a cat in his name; |
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Threw it in a pond, no shame |
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A tempest was aroused, who should he blame |
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Hunt down those Witches, confess or die |
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Sink or swim, they're guilty - let's hang 'em high |
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3 covens of 39 |
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In 1591 that night performed a rite |
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A grand Sabbath with one aim in sight |
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To destroy the king of England |
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Witchcraft spreading all around this Christian land |
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Find them; burn them to the ground |
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Their souls condemned |
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Their ill fated curse failed so the king held trial |
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The first great persecution of the British Isles |
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An imp sucks a spinster's nipple |
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A hare drains milk from cattle |
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A clergy fornicate at a black dog's ball |
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Pierce flesh with needles three inches in |
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If they scream they're guilty, guilty as sin |
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3 covens slaughtered that night |
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39 crucified, burned and hanged alive |
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Interrogated at our first witch trials |
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Sentenced by the king of England |
