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3Rd Of November 1324

'Horse and hattock, horse and goe
Horse and pelattis - hoe, hoe'
Roofcrests tho' fog florish'd
vily there veil'd the women
thro' soot, amidst chimneys who sail'd

Mankind in its waddling cloths
so many things not known
But stranger yet the acts we do
until we're fully grown
A man from Betlehem he taught
to turn our other cheek
Yet those who've follow'd him sith
then are far from blessed meek

Alice Kyteler:
I flee from here to England
lest I face the fate thou plead
...her maid Petronilla:
Oh cease thy torture to whate'er
ye want I will concede

Come ride a night of latter april,
silver there be strewn
To shape the shades of 'graves -
of giants' by hibernian moon
Where may hide 'Dananns children'
who whisper what they've seen
But listen listless thou shan't hear
what 'might' from what ' have' been

Way of the Witch
Leaves of the mugwort green
and silver, that fare fortifies
To incantate and fornicate,
virtue succumbs to vice
A travesty religious my
wicked backward might
- Come Walpurgis night!

But superstition knoweth cure when
things unknown knock at the door
'Franciskan fires' wait for her
who's in the 'perish register'

Richard De Ledrede claims
to have witness'd a coven

De Ledrede:
And I swear she was there
Council:
Our Lady Alice of Kilkenny dear?
De Ledrede:
She hath earn'd to be burn'd
Council:
Afire at the pyre church's
lesson she's learn'd
All:
Her maid we'll have made
this confess and confirm

Alice Kyteler:
I flee from here to England
lest I face the fate thou plead
...her maid Petronilla:
Oh cease thy torture to whate'er
ye want I will concede

Went a wench to Brocken
came she there not just as well
betwixt a leafy beechfork
as thro' fiery gates of hell?
Could toadstool make a remedy
(when bleeding's tried and true)?
Were those gifted 'friends of fiend'
or the godfearing common fools?

Way of the Witch
Tatters of an hang'd our broth,
a banquet foul and weird
Abominate and desecrate,
pass water in men's beard
There where the moon is on the wane
catch glimpses of our flight
- Come Walpurgis night!

But superstition knoweth cure when
things unknown knock at the door
'Franciskan fires' wait for her
who's in the 'perish register'

Richard De Ledrede claims
to have witness'd a coven

De Ledrede:
As I near'd she appear'd
Council:
Our Lady Alice the wealthy and weird
De Ledrede:
She hath earn'd to be burn'd
Council:
Afire at the pyre church's
lesson she's learn'd
All:
So we swear was she there
that Lady Alice of Kilkenny dear
She hath earn'd to be burn'd
Afire at the pyre church's
lesson she's learn'd
Her maid we'll have made
this confess and confirm

Lank the fingers on the fiddle
his is the tune that never, ever ends
Many a mode the devil plays
turn deaf thy ears or dance

'Tuatha de Danann':
'Our tale was told, our words been heard,
what maybe were, might have occured
Between these lines the truth may hide
but where is for thee to decide'

Alice Kyteler:
I flee from here to England
lest I face the fate thou pleed
...her maid Petronilla:
Oh cease thy torture to whate'er
ye want I will concede

November 3rd 1324 was lit the pyre
Remember Petronilla should these
flames ever soar higher

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