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