Witch Hunt
Light the torches, gotta burn the bitch up
Atone for the sins that you've
Brought to our cities the gutters
Flowing with the blood of the cowards
Hanging from the cross while you close your shudders
Ready the men, gonna string the demon up
There is no penance for abomination
I will run my blade from your mouth to your cunt
Gather round it's a good ol fashioned witch hunt
Drag you out of your fucking homes
You think your body is yours,
But through the Light of the lord,
It is God's to fucking own
I'm the prophet of vindication
Although my body is sore from every swing of the sword
These are gods decapitations
Skinned alive
Everyone claims innocence with a rope around their neck
Sinners mutter prayers with their hands tied behind their back
Our faith it fuels the fire,
And we shall praise him with the choir
Of all these harlots burning deep into the night
I praise you
One by one we'll hang them all
The sight will chill the bones of the devil himself
I am a warrior of the lord
I send thee to hell
Jezebel
Heretical
I smite thee
If you're so fond of your god
I'll lend you passage to his gates
Let's see how much skin comes off
Before you denounce your faith
I will not repent for your ignorance
You have decided to live your life blinded
By it
I will revel in the sounds that you make
As the Witches are stealing your eyelids
Look at me.
I will show you the evil you thought you saw in me
You cast in judgment self fulfilled your fucking prophecy
You will be begging for hell
But I won't let you slip until I see it fit
How does it feel to be flayed to the bone
'cause you lost in the hunt of the witch
Atone for the sins that you've
Brought to our cities the gutters
Flowing with the blood of the cowards
Hanging from the cross while you close your shudders
Ready the men, gonna string the demon up
There is no penance for abomination
I will run my blade from your mouth to your cunt
Gather round it's a good ol fashioned witch hunt
Drag you out of your fucking homes
You think your body is yours,
But through the Light of the lord,
It is God's to fucking own
I'm the prophet of vindication
Although my body is sore from every swing of the sword
These are gods decapitations
Skinned alive
Everyone claims innocence with a rope around their neck
Sinners mutter prayers with their hands tied behind their back
Our faith it fuels the fire,
And we shall praise him with the choir
Of all these harlots burning deep into the night
I praise you
One by one we'll hang them all
The sight will chill the bones of the devil himself
I am a warrior of the lord
I send thee to hell
Jezebel
Heretical
I smite thee
If you're so fond of your god
I'll lend you passage to his gates
Let's see how much skin comes off
Before you denounce your faith
I will not repent for your ignorance
You have decided to live your life blinded
By it
I will revel in the sounds that you make
As the Witches are stealing your eyelids
Look at me.
I will show you the evil you thought you saw in me
You cast in judgment self fulfilled your fucking prophecy
You will be begging for hell
But I won't let you slip until I see it fit
How does it feel to be flayed to the bone
'cause you lost in the hunt of the witch
Credits
Writer(s): Brock Reddish
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.