It is not a scenery
At this market-place in middle-ages
Somebody - in the crowd -
Speaks a prayer
Hundred burning torches rise
In their light appears the silhouette
Of a mighty FUNeral pile
Headling with some unknown herbs
- Rising suspicion -
`Death` - they say -
`is what she deserves!`
- An innocent victim -
`Instruments of torture
will tell us the truth!`
And it feels like
Oooohhh...
`I`m representing the church
Somebody said, in you might lurk
Things - still not seen by human eyes
Is is dark magic, you are practicing?`
After there are no tears left
And they thought, they`d feaced the fact
`Nothing is as it should be
You`re accused of witchery!`
`If there is a creator
If there is a god..
You will pay for all the dead
There`s punishment above!
And somebody outside
this chamber of horror
Knows my fear, knows my sorrow
YOU preach, how could I learn?
`cause in this faith is
CHARITY ABSURD!`
After this words wer spoken
The cowd wants to see her die
The way to the confessor
Will it be the last one in her life?
The murmur grows - until they rage
And somebody speaks a prayer
A prayer...