Ah, the sweet song of the bell It's the butcher's curtain call again Does he sleep at night? The hood protects his face from prying eyes And the swinging man Looks pretty good to me I see he's pissed himself But now he'll leave us be I thought I heard a distant bark Ah, the mothers, they're crying in vain again A man stood sick as hell The crowd didn't know his name at all But the chopping block Looks pretty good to me And the rolling head Rolls by and feels no pain Ah, the sweet song of the bell It's the butcher's curtain call again Does he sleep at night? The hood protects his face from prying eyes And the swinging man Looks pretty good to me I see he's pissed himself But now he'll leaves us be