Over Hill, Over Dale, Thorough Bush, Thorough Briar
The butcher, the banker, the grind-stone cranker.
The healer, the dealer, the chimney sweeper.
The axes, the hatchets, the boxes full of matches
The niter, the biter, the craven torch lighter.
The pyre, the liar, watching as the fire
Draws nearer, then near. Smile with a sneer.
The inhale, the out, the crowd begins to shout.
Of bodies, of blood, flowing as the flood.
The trick, the trap, closing in the gap.
The pitch, the ditch, house to house the stitch.
Come rage, ignite the flaming sword of spite.
Now body and bone to pyre are sewn
Now curses, shrieks as the flames begin to peak.
The Village. The Town. Had burned itself down.
The healer, the dealer, the chimney sweeper.
The axes, the hatchets, the boxes full of matches
The niter, the biter, the craven torch lighter.
The pyre, the liar, watching as the fire
Draws nearer, then near. Smile with a sneer.
The inhale, the out, the crowd begins to shout.
Of bodies, of blood, flowing as the flood.
The trick, the trap, closing in the gap.
The pitch, the ditch, house to house the stitch.
Come rage, ignite the flaming sword of spite.
Now body and bone to pyre are sewn
Now curses, shrieks as the flames begin to peak.
The Village. The Town. Had burned itself down.