Music: Brian Ennals/Tariq Ravelomanana
Oh come, oh, come, God's blessings to thee
I come, I come from the cold, cold city
With narrow streets and buildings so high
The grey expanse beneath the sky
She twitches and paces and talks to herself
She waxes and wanes into her own death
With years and miles behind her
Alone she dies with only the devil beside her
I should have killed them
All of them
With my bare hands
When I had the chance
I should have drowned them
All of them
One by one
'till they're all dead
Her eyes well up into the streets
Perfectly round and black like oblivion
Alleys flood and turn into streets
In hopes it will forgive her
She calls her way out for her life
Only condemned by her will to survive
Bitter stitched me a curtain so bright
Made out of lichen for the afterlife
I should have killed them
All of them
With my bare hands
When I had the chance
I should have drowned them
All of them
One by one
'till they're all dead