Letras
The tempest blows up from a squall
Past the Cape of Bad Conscience
Into the Gulf of the Cauldron
Froths over the coastline to batter and flatter
Exposing the roots like the dyeing hair of a slattern
A scrapper and a mauler in a rope ringers fall
Outside the window is punching
But there's no one to hear it
No one hears the bell ring
Except the one who comes to fear it
And they continue to brawl
He's buying his way into heaven I suppose
He weaves after blows
But down in a location that we cannot disclose
He turns the dial slowly
Through the stations of the cross
A crowd done up dandy
In diamonds and finery
Bayonet howling
All bloodlusty calling
Fists like pistons
Faces like meat spoiling
Hall, boys, hall
Bullyboys, hall
Later in the evening Molly and her gunman
Go down the stairs to a dive like a dungeon
Meanwhile in the back room there's a girl like a sponge
Seen bringing in love as a constable's truncheon
The gunman wants Molly to kingdom come
Then blows them all to the hereafter
He's scuttling away now and hidden from her view
He's tightening the tourniquet and turning her blue
They're hurling themselves into heaven I suppose
Before the gates are closed
But down in a location that we cannot disclose
They turn the dial slowly
Through the stations of the cross
The gale of hale laughter
Scales up the ivory
Black keys of a fine wine
Descending to the minor
Die away breathless
Diminishing behind her
Hall, boys, hall
Bullyboys, hall
The water came up to their ears
You'd think that someone had opened a valve
It's too soon to stay now and too late to leave
So spare your remarks all the way up to Calvary
They're hurling themselves into heaven I suppose
Before the gates are closed
But down in a location that we cannot disclose
They turn the dial slowly
Through the stations of the cross
Through the stations of the cross
Through the stations of the cross