Baby I feel good, do you feel bad, now that you're mine? 
Baby I feel good, do you feel bad, Clementine? 

It's the season of the witch and the drinking of wine, 
the season of the Bitch, bionic in crime
shed a tear for our daughter, Clementine 
floating in the ocean, drowning in the brine. 

of your mind, 
if you move faster, can you look back there and see 
her outline? 

Trapped in the tower on the top of the hill 
or hear the crushing of her bones in the miller's mill 
or trapped in her bottle of tiny blue pills 
escaping from a hunter, looking for a kill?