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(Salve, Mortis, Salve)

All rise ye who stand accused

for practice of the witches craft

silent tongues that speak no truth

continuing down teh devil's path

Are ye guilty folk, inflected ill

riding dead air unto the tomb?

Speak not, hear not as ye be

with one who cradles an abundant womb

Those who suffer, shall suffer no more

and the town shall be ridden of all witches lore

Hereby guitly & sentenced

to hang by noose

amongst faith now

it be your lives you will loose

Pronounced excommunicate

to die with morning next

but unnoticed upon the judge

this night brings a wicked hex