• Written By: Mackenzie/Walker/Kenny-Smith/Mason/Reed

Who's this Sadie Sorceress?

Let me tell you bout this 80s lady named Sadie.
She's wild like a witch.
She's more fly than Quidditch.
Smoking winnies and drinking tinnies and Glenfiddich.
She's a roller blader skating.
Masquerading.
Squabble and gobble.
Eats blood and trouble.
Meddles in the metal in it.
She flies a handbag freak flag.
Dragon scale knapsack.
Fur a pelt of mastodon.
Brings it on as carry on.
Sharp like parmesan.
Living non-partisan.
Leviathan cardigan.
Elegant artisan.
Concealing her identity as an evil entity.
Anti-sanctity in a vastity quantity.
Nightshade bringing death commander.
Have a gander - oleander.
Poisonous like buttercups.
She's dressing up to fuck shit up.

Hello love.
How are ya?

Sadie Sorceress. Sadie Sorceress. Sadie Sorceress.
Snapping necks with her broomstick getting tortuous.

The pagan shaman sorceress.
Cackling.
Bat shit.
Non-conformist.
Moles on her nose so enormous.
The public they can't ignore it.
Pitchforks banging on her door.
They wanna throw her overboard to see if she floats or sinks into the floor.
There she goes bobbing on the surface as the peasants and servants start to yell "hooray, sell her to the circus".
But she's had enough of playing it down and playing it dumb.
She's dropping bombs on this human scum.
Ain't no thing as collateral damage in this supernatural planet with a habit of getting savage.
Making sacrifices for the paradise of perdition, the trials and tribulations for the forbidden religion.

Sadie Sorceress. Sadie Sorceress. Sadie Sorceress.
Snapping necks with her broomstick getting tortuous.

The most dangerous, debaucherous, Sadie sorceress.