Won′t the devil guide your hand for good luck
To hold the honeysuckle rose as she lies down?
Reading the paper, reading the world right round and her eyes
Record the sweet surprise of those who died that day
Leaving her breathless, leading her hand to the grave
And Jane, you're early
Your life′s work is dirtied by the fools
Who adore you
Only to find, only to find you out
They saw you dressing in the backroom
Now they'll pay what they owe you
It's only small change
Red on the green, green grass
Won′t the devil take you back for more to open closed doors
And keep the good from the great?
Evil and equal seeking to kill and create
How grand the milk and honey land is on her tongue again
Taste of the violence, trying to silence her head