| I’ll trim the sea with envy
|
| Bounce the martyr from the ship
|
| Tread on the bridge plank Merceyside*
|
| With a slow and graceful clip
|
| Sorrows of Young Werther**
|
| Lying between the bread
|
| And I’ll sup and dine with Frankenstein
|
| Until I loose my head
|
| It was a lovely simple thing
|
| Twisted up her countenance
|
| Pledge her honor to the ground
|
| While choosing for the dance
|
| The unsuspecting blue-faced lads
|
| Soon to chase their minds
|
| With red-tipped canes and bridled dogs
|
| Lap the muddy brine
|
| The bridge is green
|
| Across a river brown
|
| Seperates the sides
|
| Runs down to the ocean
|
| Fighting with the mighty tides
|
| Like Lucy and the carnivour
|
| Tug on a piece of meat
|
| Knuckle scrape across her shirt
|
| And down into the street
|
| Knock heed and warning, brother man
|
| Roll your shoes up tight
|
| Grab the switch with both cold hands
|
| And stare into the light
|
| Close your eyes and feign to weep
|
| To seal the stronger reign
|
| Rest assured your trinkled thought
|
| Will spring straight back again
|
| I will trim the sea with envy
|
| Bounce the martyr from the ship
|
| I will draw the bridge plank Merseyside
|
| With a slow and graceful clip
|
| Sorrows of young Werther
|
| Lying between the bread
|
| And I’ll sup and dine with Frankenstein
|
| Until I loose my head |