Besedila: Gorerotted. A Very Grave Business.

A lurking street urchin by the day,
Whose conning ways offer a lowly wage
So when night falls to the church I turn, to see what treasures I can earn
I take my shovel and I take my sack, to see what I can bring me back
I rob gold & silver & amber & pearls from your dear beloveds that have left this world

I see your face - and then it's gone without trace
I feel I'm losing my sight - haunting life day and night
Raven red hair - I have to stop here and stare
Your piercing eyes black and cold - the devil's broken the mould

My lamplight casts upon the grave, of magaret erskine
A disease ridden dame
Friday night she died and was buried in the morn
Enriched in jewels, wrapped in fine coths
From the earth she comes again
Punishing the sins of all men
Taking life like taking breath
A tortured soul lives on in death

I see your face - and then it's gone without trace
I feel I'm losing my sight - haunting life day and night
Raven red hair - I have to stop here and stare
Your piercing eyes black and cold - the devil's broken the mould

I want that ring I must not linger
I can get it off the dead wenchs finger
I need to take it to the nearest inn
And swap it for a pint of gin
A very grave business, no man should witness

She walked in the bar all pale and white, it gave me such a massive fright
She looked all dead and did quite stink it almost made me drop my drink
Excuse me sir but that's my ring, and now my hand it don't half sting
So the moral now the story's read, don't steal bling from off the dead