There was lying at the table
Crying on the stairs
A raven on the gable singing
Jesus doesn't care
A woman at the window
With her hands on her hips
Staring out across the ocean
Like the prow of a ship
No blinking or emotion
Like the prow of a ship
Just endeavour and devotion
Like the prow of a ship
Rest in your bed
Mcgreggor's dead
The kids were in the kitchen
Carving up the will
When the long line of limousines
Snaked down the hill
The vicar waiting
And shaking hands
With the prodigal and pompous
Who knew the man
Father figures and motherf*ckers
Who knew the man
God's doorman at the party
As if god knew the man
Rest in your bed
Mcgreggor's dead
Recall his lies
Pick up the pen
Record his reign
For the bitch that bore him
Is in heat again