by Peter Loaf
The priests in power, faith to defend
Rumor of witches, around the bend
Winnowing evil
Methods medieval
Soldiers in armor, the business end
The witch accusing, a gag to chew
Hands shackled behind, a hobble too
Evil inventions
Evil intentions
Dragged away screaming, ‘tis nothing new
Taken to castle, bishop’s redoubt
Stripping her naked, turning her out
The brothers attend
Cannot defend
A wedge for sitting, taking her mount
Pussy lips splitting, like an old tree
Weights on her ankles, never get free
Torture unending
The message sending
Helpless young beauty, needing to flee
Shackled in darkness, she can’t go far
Naked and helpless, collar and bar
With brandy reeking
The monks come sneaking
Body presented, bug in the tar
Bent over barrel, pussy and ass
Lard-greased and throbbing, given the gas
Bar collar detains
The monk semen drains
The war on women, power amass
The Church medieval, down to our times
Their power growing, the vine it climbs
In towns after towns
Right to life clowns
War upon women, all the Right signs