Lyrics by Erin and Rand Bellavia, music by Rand Bellavia

My story’s been told and it’s older than time
Older than fables or nursery rhymes
They try me then try me then try to set fire to me
Though I’ve committed no crimes

Whatever the scene they aim to demean
Peasant, princess, servant or queen
They try me than try me then cry to the sky
Unclean, obscene, and everything in between

No broom or bubbling cauldron
There’s no evil in my eye
But if whatever I do is called sin
Then I confess that I

I am nasty
I am timeless
I will not be silenced
I am alive with fire and fury
And I will fight til the tide has turned

We are nasty
We’re the forsaken
We will not be shaken
We are the daughters of the witches
That your fathers failed to burn

You say that you’re blessed
There’s no need to redress
Surely your best
Destiny’s manifest

Then profess I’m possessed
You detest and arrest me
And suggest I confess to my sin

But as you might have guessed
I’m less than impressed
You’re obsessed, grotesque
And repressed; I request

I express my protest:
Unless Yes is the Guest
I attest the oppressed cannot win

No broom or bubbling cauldron
There’s no evil in my eye
But if whatever I do is called sin
Then I confess that I

I am nasty
I am timeless
I will not be silenced
I am alive with fire and fury
And I will fight til the tide has turned

We are nasty
We’re the forsaken
We will not be shaken
We are the daughters of the witches
That your fathers failed to burn