I'm going to pray for the cold, I'm going to pray not for Anything at all I'm going to pray for the war, I'm going to pray that my dagger's not The first blade withheld And when that bird beaks its blood on my windowsill I know that I have been called And the glory of economy Is when your dwarf shall become a man Woe to the night, woe to the night Emaciated forester dancing in the moonlight Dancing just to stave off the hunger - it's a hunger where You want to hit him in the fucking knees And then you hit him in the fucking knees! Shooter! Shoot up! But you better watch your allocution Shooter, shooter, shoot up! But Donna, you better Never turn your back on that dwarf, and: You better watch your allocution! Donna's got a right to be tired! She's been swamped in the kitchens Of a Dark Royalty And if you love me! You'll know my heart Belongs to the shepherd Who has nursed his lord back from the tombs of a Dark Galilee And if you know me now Then I shall know you now I shall know you by the light on your face I shall know you by the light coming out of your face