The Black Witches of Taberoux!
Tis in the year sixteen hundred and twelve
and the old hags of Taberoux
are sat around in their hovels
making familiars and potions grow
Old Bessie has just turned seventy-three
and has one arm and one eye
''She's in league with the devil himself, she is''
we hear the village folk cry
Young Margaret is but a child of ten
and already learning the skills
to hex the local vicarage
and kill sucking babies at will
Old Lizzie, leaning on a cane
limped up to a horse and a man
''Give me just a bit of change, sir, if you possibly can''
He raised his whip above her head
and brought it across her face
''Get out of here, you hideous crone
Go away, leave this place''
The magistrate was struck down dead
Twas the work of that old bag
Old Lizzie with the cane
all the villagers they do dread
to see her evil expression
What was left of her scar-filled face
She was truely ugly and grotty
A complete and utter disgrace
The crops are ruined! The ale is flat!
Mrs Woodrow has lost her babe!
Mr Thompson has a fever!
On the women they lay their blame
So they gather together a lynch mob
and raise their hovels to the ground
''The witches must burn and die at once
so they really must be found''
They find old Bessie, old Lizzie and young Margaret hiding by the stream
The mob of angry protesters begin to shout and scream
as they run at speed towards them
and lob their weapons with fury
''You'll be dealt with by us'' they angrily rant
not by courts nor judge nor jury''
The evil witches ran for cover
while spitting their venom with jeers
''May the devil cast you into hell
for eternity and many more years''
There was a mighty battle fought that night
between the witches and their enemies
but after several hours the women were finally bought to their knees
as the villagers bound them to a pyre
and burned them alive for their evil deeds