Witches in a Ritual

Witches in a Ritual
Dancing 'round and 'round
Whimsical, and cyclical
Political
Fountains flowing- problems of the people on the ground
It's magical and tragical
And miserable
Why do we seem to:

Run to the arms of the Brute

Witches in a Ritual
Never touch the ground
They tip toe on their fairy dust
And kick around
The ones that seem to:

Run to the arms of the Brute

Now if you think it's safe, and you think you got it made
Well there's a white collar rain check with your name in blood
And there's too many graves, in the name of foul play
And we'll be burying our sisters in the shallow mud
And you can call it out:

Witches in a Ritual
Dancing 'round and 'round
Whimsical, and cyclical
Political
Fountains flowing- problems of the people on the ground
It's magical and tragical
And miserable