Horrors of the Scottish Witch-finding
Oh evil souls who screamed-out je t’accuse … And ‘good’ folk never dared the charge refuse
Oh evil souls who screamed-out je t’accuse … And ‘good’ folk never dared the charge refuse
They cannot speak of torment, fear and brutal hate
An unkempt burly man wanders in. One shirt-tail is hanging out. His pasty bearded face is tired and pink-eyed. His jumper, cords … everything is wrinkled. He wants to talk.
we interviewed a man who told us a poignant tale
leave the world where snowdrops kiss’d by wind unfurl
Her shoes are bound to be smaller than mine but I thought I’d try them on anyway