I am a crooked man and I've walked a crooked mile   Night, the shameless widow doffed her weeds, in a pile   The stars all winked at me, they shamed a child   Your funeral, my trial      One thousand Marys lured me into gullies damped with clover   Bird with crooked wing cast it's wicked shadow over   The bauble moon did mock and trinket stars did smile   Your funeral, my trial      Here I am, little lamb, let all the bells in whoredom ring   All the crooked bitches that she was   Mongers of pain saw the moon become a fang   Your funeral, my trial, your funeral, my trial   Your funeral, my trial