Lyrics

(originally Wash Yourself) Wash yourself and see your sorrow, make every pitcher clean Take a mop to swab the floor and destroy the evil dream Counting houses full of lead, the evil eye on high The streets awash with blood and pus, the new moon's in the sky God's aloft, the winds are raging God's aloft, the winds are cold After leaving I was weeping - count it out in tolls Watch the book, the page is turning - how the tale unfolds Inside every cancered spectre Inside-outside find your own God's aloft, the winds are raging - God's aloft, the winds are cold