In the stab-land of the city We sit relatively pretty Dyspeptic grey The sun limps down Still the Jezebelles are ringing This furniture is singing Periodic tables and the black hole chairs Now the stars are all aligning Resolute and shining Weaving in the fables And the falling tears All your wanton burning of the youthful flame Think again Bernadette And there's too much noise from the cruel, cruel mouth North and south Bernadette When beauty starts to fall apart The savage eye and beating heart of darkness Blessed darkness My hinterland and winterland and wonderland I understand you too well Only too well Bernadette We overstepped the mark Tigers after sharks Bernadette Bernadette We never looked behind Crueler to be kind Bernadette Bernadette