All the heroes’ faces are narrow
Loose canons in their britches
The legend Hood is dead in a barrow
Where’s the money for the pastors wine
bbbuuuurrrrppppp
Don’t worry sweet maiden
I’ll rob Mylitta blind
You’ll love her water urchin
We’ll toast our child with stolen wine
bbbuuuurrrrppppp
Drunken deer drag my sleigh
Across this dark carousel land
I have fled many a lover’s fray
But I return
For I’m the collector of skeletons
bbbuuuurrrrppppp
You’ll wait purely for me sweet maiden
Till the novel dragon devours all your flesh
Then I’ll return your glorified troubadour goblin
To whisper a dire line to late for succulent passion
Remember I’m the collector of skeletons
bbbuuuurrrrppppp
©bg 2010