They take apart their bodies like toys for the local boys
Because they're always there at the edge of the water
They come from the capital, these city girls
Go way down where the stones meet the sea

And all you young girls where do you hide
Down by the water, in the restless tide

And the local boys hide on the mound and watch
Reaching for the speech and the word to be heard
And the boys grow hard, hard to be heard
Hard to be heard as they reach for the speech
And search for the word on the water's edge

But you grow old and you grow cold
Yeah you grow old and you grow cold

They would come in their hordes, these city girls
With white strings flowing from their ears
As the local boys behind the mound
Think long and hard about the girls from the capital
Who dance at the water's edge, shaking their asses

And all you young lovers where do you hide
Down by the water, and the restless tide

With a bible of tricks they do with their legs
The girls reach for the speech and the speech to be heard
To be hard, the local boys teem down the mound
And seize the girls from the capitol
Who shriek at the edge of the water
Shriek to speak, and reach for the speech
Reach for the speech and be heard

But you grow old and you grow cold
Yeah you grow old and you grow cold
You grow old

Their legs wide to the world like bibles open
To be speared and taking their bodies apart like toys
They dismantle themselves by the water's edge
And reach for the speech and the wide wide world
Ah, God knows the local boys

It's the will of love
It's the thrill of love
Ah, but the chill of love is coming on
It's the will of love
It's the thrill of love
Ah, but the chill of love is coming on
It's the will of love
It's the thrill of love
Ah, but the chill of love is coming down, people

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Mute Song Limited
Writer(s): Nicholas Cave, Thomas Wydler, Warren Ellis