I believe in all or nothing
Sometimes in the early morning
I believe in anything

Hungry for the dusty war cries
Hiding from a line of cat's eyes
I believe in Natty Dread

When the gods have shaved and spoken
Soft farewells to spin unbroken
Leaves to match the newly dead

From eye to eye the tumult gathers
Victims work into a lather
Take us with you when you go

Up the trap door
Down the sewer
Off the slat shot shut they trossed
Like a horn in ragged water
And slitting up the slot spot cut

From wall to world the end is never
Odd or strange or even clever
Cleave it with an iron slice

While Cook's below the frothing cinders
Mend the skull of old Belinda
Thudding on a bulb of ice

Here is love and here is cancer
Cleanest velvet for the mince event
To comes your aching teeth

Rot the skin of past and future
Tiny leads are bound to suture
When they show through underneath

Roar the waves so close and hollow
A tide that must be satisfied
Foam is fertilizing
Rotting cleansing of the valiant rat

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): ROBYN HITCHCOCK