---

A blight on you and all of your kind

Screams the man with murder in mind

There's a grave in which to lay

That will see you through now

Till judgement day

Mark out a place and stand in the sun

turn guns on your own and blow them to chum

Fly kites at night over fires of bone

Raise knives to the heavens and burn in your homes

Oh there's a fire in the church on Hauthorn street

Ware good men go to find there bad to beat

Oh there's a fire in the church on Hauthorn street

And if were lucky it will consume us all

Oh it will consume us all.

Come drink to this with me! come

Stand by my side!

Come raise a. glass with me

Come watch the end of lies