we're all mad here

you can hang me in a bottle like a cat

let the crows pick me clean but for my hat

where the wailing of a baby

meets the footsteps of the dead

we're all mad here

as the devil sticks his flag into the mud

mrs carol has run off with reverend judd

hell is such a lonely place

and your big expensive face will never last

and you'll die with the rose still on your lips

and in time the heart-shaped bone that was your hips

and the worms

they will climb the rugged ladder of your spine

we're all mad here

and my eyeballs roll this terrible terrain

and we're all inside a decomposing train

and your eyes will die like fish

and the shore of your face will turn to bone