Marshmallows and a Holy Bible

Welcome, Lords and Ladies; Tarts and Trollopes; Friars and Flagellants
As we open this glorious season of killing, in Jesus name
Reach into the Crypt, for there your future lies
Free you from your past, and all your human ties
Happy little larval friends will dine upon your skin
We'll pocket your gold teeth before we notify your kin
Bury you beneath the shade of the old hanging tree
Burn you at the stake and then we'll dance in ecstasy
Purified by fire, you see, the truth shall set you free
We'll feel better when we know you're there eternally
We're roasting a witch on a stick
It makes me dance three quarter time
I heard she had a heretic stick
And that does it for me just fine
Oh, but it gives me such glee
I'm so glad it's her and not me
Bring your marshmallows and your holy bible
We're roasting a witch on a stick
Now push forward, don't be shy
We've a big crowd of the faithful today
There are bushels of rotten fruit and vegetables out back of the pyre
So help yourselves, we need your support
Open your fine muscles then we'll pour the boiling oil
Scream out your confession, shuffling off this mortal coil
What's healing you is saintly work, God knows how the priests toil
But we'll feel better when you're safe and six feet in the soil
Can't allow the sacrilege, you took His name in vain
All blasphemers pay the price for doing deeds for vain
Put you on the rack and then we stretch you 'til you pop
Know that once you tasted blood it's hard to make it stop
We're roasting a witch on a stick
It makes me dance three quarter time
I heard she had a heretic stick
And that does it for me just fine
Oh, but it gives me such glee
I'm so glad it's her and not me
Bring your marshmallows and your holy bible
We're roasting a witch on a stick
This is the two o'clock immolation, the two o'clock immolation
Only ticket holders for the two o'clock immolation will be allowed in the town square
Stack your limbs on wooden pipes and scatter them around
Out to the distant corners of the pious little town
Don't let a small dismemberment go and get you down
Last week we tied one to a stone, in the lake we watched her drown
We're roasting a witch on a stick
It makes me dance three quarter time
I heard she had a heretic stick
And, you know, that does it for me just fine
Oh, but it give me such glee
I'm so glad it's her and not me
Bring your marshmallows and your holy bible
We call it a ritual, we never say tribal
It's simply a matter of relevant survival
We're roasting a witch on a stick