Witch Hunt Lyrics - A Show Of Hands (live) - Rush

The night is black 

Without a moon 

The air is thick, and still 

The vigilantes gather on 

The lonely torchlit hill 

Features distorted in the flickering light 

The faces are twisted and grotesque 

Silent and stern in the sweltering night 

The mob moves like demons possesed 

Quiet in conscience, calm in their right - 

Confident their ways are best 

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The righteous rise 

With burning eyes 

Of hatred and ill-will 

Madmen fed on fear and lies 

To beat, and burn, and kill 

They say there are strangers, who threaten us 

In our immigrants and infidels 

They say there is strangeness, too dangerous 

In our theatres and bookstore shelves 

Those who know what's best for us - 

Must rise and save us from ourselves 

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Quick to judge 

Quick to anger 

Slow to understand 

Ignorance and prejudice 

And fear 

Walk hand in hand