Where does your misfortune grow?
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From a humble house, with a cross burning slow?
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You fear she will challenge your throne
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So you dig the dirt and it's selling like gold
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10 fingers 10 toes point, but not a damn one back at you
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It's your fault you fall apart
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The problem is in you
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Burn the witch
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Or stone and rope to bind her soul
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Sink or swim
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And watch the truth drown below
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You search the hills, swift and true
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Look outside yourself, for it cannot be you
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The town gathers and slander ensues
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Not long 'til she's cursed, not long 'til she's through
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You've done the work of a saint, but with the devil's hand
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With cauldron gossip you pray, to restore this land
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Holy and dead, holy and dead
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Remember the plank?
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You've got a tree instead
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This will all be over soon
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She's melting through
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But your dark clouds still remain
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So grab another one without a name
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-----------------
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Salem
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| Nothing More |
