Going out to paint the city black To seek the poets of the grave The truth is for fools Receive the blow of the morning star Drink up the bottle Like so many men did before you To reveal the horrors of the lonely world To end the tyranny of hope Gone out to paint the city black To let it know death I'll pay with my friendships and pride For this wisdom of the grave Gone out to paint the city red To join the slaughter There is no innocent blood And the nightmare is real