Lyrics

Now Tomlinson gave up the ghost in his house in Berkeley Square And a spirit came to his bedside and dragged him by the hair Till he heard the roar of the Milky Way die down and drone and cease And they came to the gate within the walls where Peter holds the keys "Stand up, stand up now, Tomlinson, and answer loud and high The good that you did for the sake of men before you came to die." "Oh, I had a friend on earth", hе said, "who was my priest and guide And I know he would answеr well for me if he were at my side." "Because you strove in neighbour-love it shall be written fair But now you wait at heaven's gate and not in Berkeley Square Though we called your friend from his bed tonight he could not speak for you⁠— For the race is run by one and one, never by two and two." The wind that blows between the worlds, it cut him like a knife So Tomlinson took up the tale and he spoke of his good in life "Oh, this I've read in a book," he said, "and that was told to me And this I've thought that another man thought of a prince in Muscovy." "You've read, you've heard, you've thought, good God! and the tale is yet to run⁠— By the worth of the body that once you had, give answer: what have you done?" "Oh, this I've felt and this I've guessed and this I've heard men say And this they wrote that another man wrote of a carl in Norroway." "You've read, you've felt, you've guessed, good God! You've hampered heaven's gate⁠— We've better fare between the stars than you lay on our plate Get out, go down to the lord of wrong, your doom is yet to run And the faith you share with Berkeley Square go with you, Tomlinson." So the spirit dragged him by the hair and sun by sun they fell Till they came to the rings of evil stars that rim the mouth of Hell The first are red with pride and wrath, the second white with pain But the third are black with clinkered sin that cannot burn again The wind that blows between the worlds, it chilled him to the bone And he yearned to the glare of Hell-Mouth there as he would to his own hearthstone The devil he sat behind the bars, where the desperate legions drew And he caught the hurrying Tomlinson and wouldn't let him through "Do you know the price of good pit coal that I must pay," said he "That you rank yourself so fit for Hell and ask no leave of me? Sit down, sit down upon the slag, and answer loud and high The harm you did to the sons of men before you came to die." "Oh, I had a love on earth," he said, "who kissed me to my fall And if you'd call my love to me I know she would answer all." "All that you did in love forbid, it shall be written fair But now you wait at Hell-Mouth gate and not in Berkeley Square Though we whistled your love from her bed tonight, I vow she would not run For the sin that you do by two and two you must pay for one by one." "Well, once I laughed at the power of love, twice at the grip of the grave And three times patted my god on the head that men might call me brave." The devil breathed on a branded soul and set it aside to cool⁠— "Do you think I'd waste my coal," he said, "on the hide of a brain-sick fool? I see no worth in the hob-nailed mirth or the jolt-head jest you did That I should awaken my gentlemen who are sleeping three to a grid." "Oh, this I've heard," said Tomlinson, "and that was noised abroad And this I took from a Belgian book on the word of a dead French lord." "You've heard, you've read, you've got, good lack! and the tale begins afresh; Have you sinned one sin for the pride of the eye or sinful lust of the flesh?" Then Tomlinson, he gripped the bars, and he yammered, "Let me in! I remember I borrowed my neighbor's wife to sin the deadly sin." The devil, he grinned behind the bars, and he banked the fires high "Did you read that sin in a book?" he said, and Tomlinson said, "Aye." The devil, he blew upon his nails, and the little demons ran And he said, "Go husk this whimpering thief that comes in the guise of a man Go winnow him out from star to star and sieve his proper worth⁠— There's sore decline in Adam's line if this is the spawn of Earth." When the demons came back with the tattered thing like children after play They said "The soul he got from God he's bartered clean away We've thrashed out a mint of book and print, and a chattering wind for a mind And many a soul from which he stole, but his own we cannot find We've handled him, we've dandled him, we've seared him to the bone And, sire, if tooth and nail show truth, he has no soul of his own." The devil, he looked at the mangled thing that prayed to feel the flame And he thought of holy charity, but he thought of his own good name "Now you would haste my coal to waste and sit you down to fry⁠— Did you think of that sin for yourself?" he asked, and Tomlinson said, "Aye." The devil, he breathed an outward sigh, for his heart was free from care "You've scarce the soul of a louse," he said, "but the roots of sin are there." "Now for that sin you should come in, if I were lord here alone But it's sinful pride has rule inside mightier than my own You're neither spirit nor spark," he said, "you're neither book nor brute So get you back to the flesh again for the sake of man's repute I'm overlord to Adam's breed, that I should mock your pain⁠— But see that you win to a better sin before you come back again." "Get out! The hearse is at your door and the grim black stallions wait They carry your clay to the grave today⁠—move, or you'll come too late! Go back to earth with a lip unsealed, go back with an open eye And carry this word to the spawn of Earth before they come to die: That the sins they do by two and two they must pay for one by one—⁠ And the God you took from a printed book be with you, Tomlinson!"