Braucherei, Braucherei

intoned deep in the rot

he’s a witch, he’s a witch

seek his magic for naught

In the gape of Hex Hollow,

vice devilry grows

it’s a curse, it’s a curse

Nellie Noll told us so

Braucherei, Braucherei

bestrewn ripe in the thick

he’s a saint, he’s a saint

when your children are sick

In the bleak of Hex Hollow,

drear tendrils do climb

up the walls, up the walls

varnished red with our crime

Braucherei, Braucherei

reposed still in the rot

he’s a witch, he’s a witch

seek his magic for naught

In the haunt of Hex Hollow,

vice phantasm crows—

it’s a curse, it’s a curse

Nellie Noll told us so.