Hell's Ditch - The Pogues

Life’s a bitch, then you die

Black Hell

Hell’s ditch — naked howling freedom

The killer’s hands are bound with chains

At six o’clock it starts to rain

He’ll never see the dawn again

Our lady of the flowers

Genet’s feeling Ramon’s dick

The guy in the bunk above gets sick

In the cell next door the lunatic

Starts screaming for his mother

Black dildo, black hell

As the Spanish cops ridiculed my gel

A mugshot I remember well

Little man how you have suffered

I could hear the screams from up above

If it ain’t a fist it isn’t love

As for our lady she kneels down

Her neck is bent, the blade comes down

Doing!

There goes the breakfast bell

Back from heaven, back to hell

Naked howling freedom — Hell’s Ditch