As I rode to your house I was beaten and robbed
By a band of moon-faced vagabonds
They were rifling through my pockets and untying my shoes
When the air began to boil

Slow is the black dog in the sky
Who pisses and slobbers all over the world
From Belford to Wooler, to Beadnell and Ford
He slowly devours the land

I did not see what occurred but I heard their awful sounds
And smelled the perfume of death
When I opened my eyes the Sun no longer shined
For those poor children

Here I lie in the mud, my waistcoat caked in blood
Not able to stand of my own volition
A flash of lightning illuminates the belly of the beast
I see entrails dripping in the trees

Slow is the black dog in the sky
Who pisses and slobbers all over the world
From Belford to Wooler, to Beadnell and Ford
He slowly devours the land

Now I run through the night though my bones are on fire
To see you in the bosom of the hills
Through an ocean of fog I am ceaselessly drawn
To the lantern in your window
To the lantern in your window
To the lantern in your window
To the lantern in your window