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In the light of the moon

Amidst of thiefs and whores he moves

Most hated and despised of them all

By his hand all of them shall fall

On top of the hill

The gallows rise

In the light, of morning sun,

The time of judgement has come

At the root of the hill, they've gathered to witness the act

The criminal, is brought, to the stage hooded with a sack

The judgement, is death, no mercy is given,

The executioner, swings his axe and blood sprays to the crowd

And head rolls down the hill

Whistles and applauses

Audience is pleased

The weed has been rooted out

Once again

The corpse

Is put to hang

On a tree

As a totem of frightening

And for

Scavengers to eat

And the head is buried for maggots to breed in

A New day, a new contract,

The executioner never rests

Every crime, every witch,

Needs to be punished

Where he goes, humans know,

Who enters their town

Despised and frightened,

They try to avoid him

Chopped heads, lacerated hands

Cover the soil in his wake

Whipped backs and burned flesh,

Reminding the wrong-doers

No crosses, no funeral,

For the lawbreaker

Buried, to the woods, into shallow grave