Circus Contraption - Marshmallows And A Holy Bible lyrics

Welcome, Lords and Ladies; Tarts and Trollopes; Friars and Flagellants As we open this glorious season of k**ing, 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 as proof for me is 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 as proof for me is 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 as proof for me is 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