All clowns alike and none to ever leave it
Still life pride to a fault
Kick round the world on petty world fever
Kill quick the scarce and guilty few
Mortal you'll feel it now
Mortal you feel it resting between your legs
Steal all our friends and throw them on the fire
Take up the cross and play the room
Mortal you'll feel it now
Mortal you feel it resting between your legs