Through the bottom of the glass I saw the spires
Burning up in the fire as the beast hit the door
An no more in provenance was there a priest
As he lay there deceased surrounded by the coloured glass he shattered on the floor
At the back of church there hid a little family
Who all sadly knew they were for to die
And cry as they will no lawkeepers would ascend the hill
They sat still as the beast chewed them up alive
In the village there grew an old oak tree
To see its twisted trunk brought the kid to tears
His fear stopped him dead in his track
As at his back the crowd around him rose in cheers
In the lawkeepers hands there was laid a rope
And good hope went out from him like a light of a dream
No scream passed his lips till his struggles had ceased
And I the great beast returned like the mist to the stream
