Lyrics

My baby's teething in the den And I'm to give him what's mine He wasn't meant to walk with men (doctors brought him round again) In his eyes there is a cure To all the troubles in this home It'll haunt my every bone Force me through the great unknown With a different name In a different place And a different way Living different days With a rifle to stay A rifle to go Find a fire to tend And a martyr to mend Find a body to bend In a million ways 'til the thrill of a million Has faded away With the birth of a child Comes the end of an age Like turning a phrase That erases a rage