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Morgan, Morgan, Morgan, Morgan
Brander's hangman
Shaking their coins in time
Guild of mute assassins
Will convene at a quarter to nine
Behind the courthouse
Atop the scaffold
Stands a man with a back for a face
You will not ever
Until I return
To give my executioner the chase
The swinging of its censors
The silence of its members
Oh, the guild of mute assassins
From the places in between
That are so seldom seen
Oh, the guild of mute assassins
Widow in the furrowed fields
Hasn't seen her face in years
Kneels into a puddle reflection
To find it is just as she's feared
And in the garden
The archangel
Sword above his head
You will not return
Until you have learned
What you've forgotten
The swinging of its censors
The silence of its members
Oh, the guild of mute assassins
From the places in between
That are so seldom seen
Oh, the guild of mute assassins
Baby on a threshold with silver
Breath rises from his lips
Beam of yellow light from a doorway
And the figure of a silhouette
And in the cradle
A wood stiletto
Rattles like a barrel of bones
A young charming man with a passion
Silently recites the oath
The swinging of its censors
The silence of its members
Oh, the guild of mute assassins
From the places in between
That are so seldom seen
Oh, the guild of mute assassins
The swinging of its censors
The silence of its members
Oh, the guild of mute assassins
From the places in between
That are so seldom seen
Oh, the guild of mute assassins