Witchfynde - The Divine Victim

Angel of death spreads his wings on the glass
Reading the face of the posters he passed
Eyes of the seekers watch deadly and chilled
Others will be and forever through still

Joan of Ark
Warrior queen
Loved herself
Witch

Fill air with steam with his nostrils so wide
True with their cause now their breath gives him pride
All of his gas be layed wide on the turf
Notice the spray of the erupting surf

Joan of Ark
Warrior queen
Loved herself
The divine victim
On your voices
Marching through her own
Choices
Loved herself
Witch

Delayed the rider distorted and pale
Do with his problems, the rust on his helm'
The tents were all silent the banners had flown
Lassos are lifted and the trumpets are blown

Joan of Ark
Loved herself

Joan of Ark
Warrior queen
Joan of Ark
Loved herself

Witch