Lyrics:
5 Burst, and Rupture . . . . . 9 Cancer, and Wolf . . . . . . 10 Canker . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 Childbed . . . . . . . . . .
I've been staggering Ever since the shot in Rome On Wednesday May 13th, 1981 The golden ball saw it all Down through the ages In childbed
him Wherever he goes Nodding thistle, english sun dew Swansneck woman, child-bed meadow Aching shoulders sink and grow As the bells from ditches toll
woods in whom deere lovers oft have talked How doe you now a place of mourning prove Wansted my Mistres saith this is the doome Thou art loves Childbed
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