Witch Hunt Wayne Shorter/Clare Foster
Introduction
Cackling breeze chattered and teased
It was a strange sound
Bubbling skies, simmered with lies
Over the vast ground
Through all the mist, sorcery hissed
Into the thick fog
There was such enchantment coming our way
Casting spells and waving wands
And things that can’t be mentioned
Evil powers from devils
Just to further bad intentions
Folklore with its legends
Seemed to cause some apprehension
Eye of next and wing of bat
The legs of toads were sentenced
In a pot of hot brew
Stirred and left to just stew
Then their deed was done
All their rituals, all their magic
Riding on their broomsticks
Through the moonlight in the cold air
Looked upon as servants
With the sin that Satan had spared
Condemned to drown, burn or hang
It really wasn’t that fair
Floating in the water
All their bodies that were left bare
T’was a sight for sore eyes
Seeing they would all die
Soles were left behind
All their broomsticks, all their mystery |