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Our tounges they could not silence, |
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with their malicious lies, |
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their unforgotten violence, |
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remember those who died. |
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And as my flesh is put to fire, |
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I hear their voices still, |
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their unjust accusations, |
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demanding I am killed. |
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'We shall show no mercy to heathen |
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such as thee, |
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who stand accused and have refused |
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the Church's clemency, |
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your wicked acts are endless, |
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though the crimes they cannot name, |
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innocent or guilty proved, |
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we'll burn you just the same.' |
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Burning, into the fire. |
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Burning, a funeral pyre. |
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Burning, into the fire. |
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Burning, a funeral pyre. |
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This self-righteous inquisition, |
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is a plague upon our land, |
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as false as the confessions they force |
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from shattered hands. |
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(Repeat 3 & 4) |
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Abused my broken body is cleansed |
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by righteous flame, |
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their God a 'God of Mercy' - |
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yet in whose name I'm slain. |
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My innocence the victim of their |
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superstitious fears, |
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religious persecution for the past |
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three hundred years, |
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preaching peace and mercy 'neath the |
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shadow of the knife, |
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a papal reign of terror - |
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slaughter in the name of Christ. |
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(Repeat 2,3 & 4) |