A witch huntnA sip of creamnA hot tempered bleeding queennI sit away from younCan't tell you what to donYou make my seasonsnYou make my black bells chimenAnd I can't help itnI want to make you minennI see your spinning mouthnCan take us what it cannAnd in the dark of nightnHe'll scribble out of linenThe concertina squeezing out my woenThere are some things thatnI hope I never knownnTake me and tangle menI don't know what to believenGlass eye, a flash of greennI'm more jealous than I seemnOh, when I watch younI see what you can donAnd, though I'm tryingnThere is no pleasing younOh, when I watch younI see what you can donAnd, though I'm tryingnThere is no pleasing you