All black she fell to earth
waiting for a sign
softly in the wind a gentle battle cry
a woman she was born
a hero she will die
The witch of Bodmin Moor
or Joan to those who know
hung from off the rafters for many years but now
she lays in her grave
But her ghost still walks the earth
Bury me she cried but no body heard
Bury me she cried put me in the earth.
Ribbons from the tree the people came for miles
to get the help they seek from Joan but in the night
they threw her in a cell in someone else's name.
Bury me she cried put me in a grave
Bury me she cried but no body came
What kind of god forgives
What kind of god forgets
So Joan still haunts those hills for she will never rest
So now it is my turn to right the wrongs of those carry in my name the reasons for her ghost, sleep now in those hills.
Joan forever more.
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