| The flames lick at my feet
|
| Their hearts full of hate
|
| What they don’t understand, they condemn
|
| What they can’t comprehend must meet its end
|
| But I won’t scream, won’t give them that satisfaction
|
| No, I won’t confess my false interaction
|
| As I breathe deep and prepare for my passing
|
| I hear them chant, burn the witch
|
| I stand accused of bein' in league with Satan
|
| No proof for the false accusation
|
| Tied to the stake, no hope of escape
|
| I stand alone and embrace my fiery fate
|
| But I won’t scream, won’t give them that satisfaction
|
| No, I won’t confess my false interaction
|
| As I breathe deep and prepare for my passing
|
| I hear them chant, burn the witch
|
| Oh, I won’t scream, won’t give them that satisfaction
|
| I won’t confess my false interaction
|
| Now as I breathe deep and prepare for my passing
|
| I hear them chant, burn the witch
|
| Burn the witch, burn the witch
|
| Burn the witch, burn the witch |