Fortunes shiver under gallows
Madmen rise in our despair
There is thunder in the hallows
Strange enough, halt, who goes there?
What happens to the sword I thrust
When all the time and all the rust
Corrupt the blade and drain the shine
What happens to the shore I trust?
What dismal caravan in need
The long and tired trail of grief
The wrong and dried out trust belief
Abysmal carry on indeed.