Слова:
Murder By Death In Bocca Al Lupo

well, one and all We'll be rid of this scourge When his body goes overboard He'd been in irons for seventy days Fed just gunpowder to fuel his rage Screamed bloody murder

Fourteen years have passed since that day Your stories are the same but the ends have all changed You carried on like you were some type of god Some things

There's a shred of guilt in every one of us And a pain we felt in watching you all suffer Now the time has come to make amends to everyone To pay the

There is steam rising From the gravel on the road There is black coal filling up our homes It seeps through the window cracks It slips through the floorboards

dodged each conflict and decision that we've met Everybody tells themselves that they m ust be justified They do what they do because they're trying to get by

In the valley the girl waits At the back of a caravan Wears a dress made of red wool For a night on the town with her man He is good to her He takes

well one and all we'll be rid of this scourge when his body goes overboard he'd been in irons for seventy days fed just gunpowder to fuel his rage screamed bloody murder

if you fess up you can start all over again and the whirlwind lifts you up to the ceiling the balconies pass but you don't even see them as they go by

I steal a look between the blinds, i unwind she sleeps in comfort in my arms she is plain, but she is mine our child is silent but awake i run my hand