Words From The Executioner To Alexander Pearce

Tell me how are you coping

Now that it's time to go

Can you see the chariots

Swinging low

Up over the huon pine and out to the snow

How much treachery

Can you possibly know



Well your chaplain loves these

Death row boys

More than he loves me

As though I have the choice

You pour in from the trees

You say an Irish boy should never

Wear the hood

But I wear it for you

And you are here for me



Tell me how are you coping

Now that it's time to leave

How can you burn more

You've been burning for years

They assumed when you fled

You were good as dead

Was their indifference crueler

Than your nothing to eat



How much of the venom

Can a tiger snake eat

There are no whores in heaven

No boys at your feet

And tell me how do we taste

It's a curious place, a mountain

To resort to customs of the sea



Well your chaplain loves your

Death row boys

More than he loves me

He abandons you to prayer

Turns so he won't see

You standing alone

As you were all along

To descend fear first

Abscond from the earth

Alone



We were meant to meet

Your exile is reached

You're home.