Who'll do for him

Child of the fifties

With no common sense

No easy resting place

Only lichen on beaches

Oil on gun barrel

And the hard taste of pennies

A God in his folly
Stands as proud as you please

The lungs won't full  the heart won't start

Bad luck child of the seas

And he alone  is a man without qualities

Combed his body for disorders

But the disease lived on in far-off quarters

As a God everything was filled to excess

As a man he settled for less

Here lies the rabbit skinner
God love the rabbit skinner

A life without purchase  no story to tell

And three little bitches fight where he fell

Foxes  foxes  give her a sign

And tell the little girl  and show her what's mine

Play hard and fast with the rules if you please

Here lies a man  without qualities