Take your fancy potions and your royal old wives
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Tell the ale-house braves they better run for their lives
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Have you seen the children with the blood on their hands?
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Have you heard about the terror spreading through the land?
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'Cos the god you pray to sees the sinners and saints
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But he doesn't give a damn about the people he taints
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See the hounds of Fleet Street in their tatters and rags
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Selling false premonitions for a penny a bag
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All the lords and ladies with their diamonds and pearls
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Throwing stones in glass houses, not a care in the world
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Take your fancy crystals and your fossilised bone
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Tell the ale-house braves the devil's gauntlet is thrown
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Belly full of whiskey and a pocket full of rope
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No fear in dying when you've lost your only hope
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The searchers round on you before your final breath
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Essence of life surrenders in the face of death
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Adverse repulsion seems to drive you to the grave
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No hearts on fire can persuade you to be saved
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Blood-sucking leeches have grown bigger in the sun
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The roses on the stone tell what you have become
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Take your fancy potions and your royal old wives
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Tell the ale-house braves they better pray for their lives
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The Ale House Braves
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| Orange Goblin |