I am a crooked man
And I've walked a crooked mile
Night, the shameless widow
Doffed her weeds, in a pile
The stars all winked at me
They shamed a child
Your funeral, my trial
A thousand Marys lured me
To feathered beds and fields of glover
Bird with crooked wing cast
It's wicked shadow overA bauble moon did mock
And trinket stars did smile
Your funeral, my trial
Here I am, little lamb...
Let all the bells in whoredom ring
All the crooked bitches that she was
Saw the moon
Become a fang
Your funeral, my trial