The noose is brittle but strong, warmed by the heat of the day, ready to be hoisted upon your neck, and hail all those troubles away. Yet speak a few words and that won't be done, but be careful as you talk, for the hangman arrives to take your words the moment you utter the one that’s wrong.
fragile heart she lay ruptured in my lounge chair grey faced i mumble a few parting words over her before i lay out the finest bone china all the makings of tea and biscuits all the fixings of ****** with the sounds of the snapping of necks sharp wet sound fresh on the air she was here to mourn her lover-boy gone astray i was here to see the deed done
i was the grey faced hangman come to get his pennys in my song you can hear the rope snap in my heart you can feel the fall from the gallows and my hangman's noose swinging in breeze has its own peculiar creaking sound that sounds like love to me i was the grey faced hangman that knows no sympathy come now you wicked ones sing my song with me
grey faced i lead the procession up the graveyard road the overgrown and thick summer feel to it claws at the senses but i keep walking stiffly with the sound of snapping necks ringing in my ears its my song
he had cried like a child as they carried him to the gallows he had begged and wailed but my hangman's noose had claimed him cold comfort awaits to the tomb they cried out with joy to the tomb with the scoundrel while she lay weeping her lost lover-boy and while grey faced i cleansed the world of scoundrels like him while grey faced i silently mourned for i had run out of rope