| 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 |