Hanging Shed

The berries are black and ripe and ready for picking
The chicken is dead, but it's still kicking
& there's one thing you must never forget;
What you did that night behind the hanging shed
The goods you promised me, they were never delivered
Your cheques are curling at the corners, yellow and withered
& there's one thing I won't let you forget;
What you did that night behind the hanging shed...
A strange unholy tale, a man beyond the pale
A men possessed by greed, a pasture gone to weed, an ugly wound unveiled
One thing kind sir, still hanging over your head
Is what you did that night behind the hanging shed
The moon is full and fat and white and sick to the core
The blind man is croaking with his hand out for more
& there's one thing I will never forget;
What you did that night behind the hanging shed