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