Lyrics

[Verse 1] In a mean abode on the Shankill road Lived a man named William Bloat He had a wife, she was the bane of his life For she always got his goat Til one day at dawn with his night shirt on He slit her wrinkled throat [Verse 2] Now he was glad he had done what he had As she lay there stiff and still Til sudden awe of the angry law Filled his soul with a fearful chill So to finish the fun, so well begun He decided himself to kill [Verse 3] So he took the sheet from his wife's cold feet And he twisted it into a rope Then he hanged himself from the pantry shelf It was an easy end let's hope With his dying breath while facing death He solemnly cursed the pope [Verse 4] Now the strangest turn of this whole concern Well is only just beginning While he went to hell his wife got well Yeah she still alive and sinnin' For the razor blade was German made But the rope was Belfast linen