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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 damned with clover
Bird with crooked wing cast
Its 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
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 damned with clover
Bird with crooked wing cast
Its 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
Lyrics submitted by Girgo, edited by trillium8, Mellow_Harsher
Your Funeral My Trial Lyrics as written by Nick Cave
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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No man is lured, you prick. There is prey and there is the hunter. He is the hunter. And he'll hunt until he's too old and too undesireable. Then he'll die alone. But hopefully he'll have some fashion sense and not die in cammo or orange.