A peaceful town down by the lake
A cradle of goodness and righteousness it was said
Quite prosperous one might add
Rye fields, cattle, and the riches of the lake
Fallacious was their dormancy of shelter
Blindfolded had they themselves with the shadow of the cross
This dormancy lasted until a dusk in August
A preacher came, handsome enough to wet any lady
He was greeted with warmth and friendliness
Though a bit of jealousy showed on the looks of the men
Nobody wondered why he spoke no words of god
And his eyes were glued to women's bodies
Nobody simply paid any attention to it
Especially the women enchanted by his attractiveness
Until one day the paint on the church walls began to crumble
The crop festered and the cattle began to die
The wives disappeared just before midnight
Only return before the first rays of sunrise
It began to show at the end of the month
The crop and the cattle dead, ground frozen, famine awaited
Vanished was the atmosphere of honesty and good will
People became wary of each other for anybody could have
Evoked this curse upon them
[Part Two: "BURN, WITCHES, BURN"]
"He must be the root of all this misery
The ladies, whores, a Satan's tool to send us to eternity
Ring, brothers, ring the bells and bring the torches
Let us tie them up to the stake - burn, witches, burn"
Finally the men of the town could point the guilt to someone
Of course it had to be the stranger
Following their wives at night they had found the orgies
Rituals to bring forth the powers of Hell
"How could you our beloved wives
Grant your bodies to be used to do evil
On him we know no me
