There's a hole in this town Boneless and vacant Where an old man turned ashes Swirly and dusting You rose with the smoke Above our drunken faces flashing Bark like a mule Ye heavy angels Bang that paper drum Slack mouth on the steps Low sacred heart Too wicked to weep or mourn Amass for the skirt The neighbourhood Carried off on a losing horse Zombie children Rise up hidden Clear your malice from the shelf Make water on The shackles upon you Take pity on yourself Bark like a mule Ye heavy angels Bang that paper drum Viva the wild dog Long live the low-life Fallen daughters And bastard sons