happened right here, here in this room, she wrapped her 
legs around me. On a rusty nail-bed with a wreath 
on the wall, that's exactly how the lynch-mob found me. 
And they bore me shoulder-high, embalmed in J & D,
past the railway arches and the gypsy-camp to the old 
slate quarryÂ….And a sickly-looking boy in a Marcel wave 
was
squinting to read out the sentence. There was an angel 
in an armband and a pig tied to a tree and a whole lot 
of talk 
of repentance. I heard an unlatched gate banging in the 
breeze, then somebody kicked the stool away and they're 
hanging off my kneesÂ….
I'm in an unmarked grave up by the Cock o' The North, 
and I'm kind of enjoying the silence. But the Devil 
prods me 
with his toasting-fork, says “Hey, remember the terms 
of our alliance?”. And it's 4am and raining and I'm 
hunting for 
my good luck charms and there's a leathery pair of 
pterodactyl's wings sprouting from my arms Â….
And you're tossing and turning in your negligée, I 
guess you're having a nightmare. I've got no head for 
heights 
but my arse is on the line, so when you wake up at last 
I'm sitting right there. And I sweep you off like 
Superman 
would sweep off Lois Lane. And I'm sorry but Satan 
needs you for his squeeze if I'm to walk the earth 
again Â….
The Devil's in his workshop in a pinstripe suit, a wig 
and some rimless glasses. There's a posse of women with 
a wiggle in their walk and he's applying his brand to 
their arses. And Satan hums a bittersweet song as you 
and 
I say our goodbyes, and I wake up naked in a lock-up 
garage with a bellyful of butterflies Â….
I got a big old house with stuffed birds on the walls 
and real live wolves in the garden. And not a day goes 
by when 
I don't think of you and if I let you down I beg your 
pardon. I got your photo on the mantelpiece among 
childhood 
heroes of mine. And me and my ventriloquist's dummy, oh 
we talk about you all the time Â….