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 damp with clover Bird with crooked wing cast Its wicked shadow over A 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