Your Funeral... My Trial

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

One thousand Marys lured me into gullies damped with clover

Bird with crooked wing cast it's wicked shadow over

The 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

Mongers of pain saw the moon become a fang

Your funeral, my trial, your funeral, my trial

Your funeral, my trial