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Your Funeral My Trial
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Nick Cave
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1
I am a crooked man
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And I've walked a crooked mile
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Night, the shameless widow
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Doffed her weeds, in a pile
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The stars all winked at me
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They shamed a child
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Your funeral, my trial
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A thousand Marys lured me
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To feathered beds and fields of glover
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Bird with crooked wing cast
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It's wicked shadow over
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A bauble moon did mock
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And trinket stars did smile
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Your funeral, my trial
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Here I am, little lamb...
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Let all the bells in whoredom ring
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All the crooked bitches that she was
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(Mongers of pain)
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Saw the moon
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Become a fang
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Your funeral, my trial
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