| Anna… was praying to a god
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| She had betrayed, so they said
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| Some folk had seen her flying on a broom
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| All hallows eve, under the moon
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| The inquisitor had left her behind
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| Gone for a bite, food on his mind
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| The sun was slowly trying to hide
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| Behind a town so full of pride
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| A sight anna would never see again
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| Torture in the name of christ, confess, oh you witch
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| Torture in the name of christ, you witch you… confess
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| Solo: shermann
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| Sitting naked on the wooden horse
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| Weights to her legs, what a holy cross
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| Her bloody hands tied to her back
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| Her golden hair burned to black
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| Thumbscrews they had used
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| To crush each tip of her fingers to a pulp
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| In the torture chamber, she couldn’t feel much more
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| Of anything… anymore
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| Torture in the name of christ, confess, oh you witch
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| Torture in the name of christ, you witch you… confess
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| Satan’s mark… had slipped away
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| They already searched her body twice today
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| And it was all in vain
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| Oh anna here they come again
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| Off the horse, strapado for a friend
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| Up she goes, higher and higher
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| Anna’s crying, screaming: «liars»
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| Solo: shermann-wead
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| Confess, confess witch
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| Confess, before you die
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| «yes, yes, i am a witch, may satan take you all»
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| Solo: wead
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| They dropped her from the ceiling
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| To a foot above the floor
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| Her ams and legs disjointed
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| Screams of pain… then finally no… more |