Hell, you’ll never mount to Paradise; so cease the sorcery,
or you will feel the might in a painful way of the judiciary.
Think your coven can do miracles? That’s a fallacy,
as you’ll see.

The court will not take an even hand; to its will you will bend
and then plead in your plight; you will find, devoid are you of any friend.
Think your coven can do miracles? That’s a fantasy,
as you’ll see.

Salem, back in the day took a quite dim view of heresy.
The place teemed with intrigues and jealousy
in 1693.

“Hanging tree is where you will be. . .
pendant, flailin’.
I recommend that you reverent be, or else you will be swinging free
out where it’s breezy.”

Salem, back in the day took a quite dim view of heresy.
The place teemed with greed, mendacity
in 1693.

Well, it took some time for sanity to hit the Colony.
When they got their minds right, finally ceased the envious enmity.
They’d known that the earth is spherical—still the witch hunt spree. . .
quite scary.

“Salem” ain’t gone away—it still prevails, that mentality,
as it teems in Medieval coteries.
Of it we ain’t yet free.