Black House

Round the back of the station house of the 4am express
Your blood stained clothes glimmered in the moonlight

I was cleaning my favourite hatchet and you started to undress

These killing fields are just ballrooms of the dark
These killing fields are just ballrooms of the heart

You've got a winning smile and I've got a silver tongue
But what use are faces and verses when the killing's done
Hold my hand and we'll start a new life
And bury the hatchet and gun

These are the people that would only see us erased
But we can take all the memories and look fondly back some day

You've killed a hundred people, I've killed 62,
But I wouldn't mind doing time if I got to spend it with you

But I can no longer dwell in this angular hell
So I'll roll my bones across the sea
You've taken lives about a hundred times
So won't you take a life with me