"Look into my eyes," he tells her
"I'm gonna say goodbye," he says, yeah
[?]
All the day(?) she thinks of is love, yeah

They whip him through the streets [?]
The gormless and the baying crowd right there
I can't get enough of that doomsday song
You can't get enough of it all
Listen!

Listen to the whores, he tells her
He fashions paper sculptures of them
He drags them to the river's bank in the car
Their soggy paper bodies wash ashore in the dark
And the priest (?)stiff in hate(?) [?]
Of his(?) women dressed as men for the pleasure of that priest

Here I am, not quite dying
My body left to rot in a hollow tree
It's branches forming shadows on the gallows (?)for me(?)
And the next day, and the next, and another day

Ignoring the pain of their particular diseases
They chase him through the alleys, chase him down the steps
They're crawling through the mud and they chant for his death
And drag him to the feed of the purple-headed reek(?)

First they give you everything that you want
Then they take back everything that you have
They live upon their feet and they die upon their knees
They can work with Satan while they dress like the saints
They know god exists for the devil to [?]
And they scream my name aloud down into the world below

Here I am, not quite dying
My body left to rot in a hollow tree
It's branches forming shadows on the gallows (?)for me(?)
And the next day, and the next, and another day