A mute undertaker had something to tell I stand at the threshold, I'm ringing the bell I was hoping for heaven, I'd settle for hell Playing harp for the fishes, it's hard to pretend Playing Patrolling the margins, inspecting the swell Located the body south of Land's End I'd long missed the boat, the tide had gone slack Playing harp for the fishes, it's hard to pretend Playing The heat was zinc, my mood was black I was melting, soaked, in a trackside shack I was frying in heaven, I was diving to hell Playing harp for the fishes, it's hard to pretend Playing Is it always so? Is it always so? Is it always so? Is it always so?