Nick Cave, The Bad Seeds - O Children

Pass me that lovely little gun

My dear, my darling one

The cleaners are coming, one by one

You dont even want to let them start



They are knocking now upon your door

They measure the room, they know the score

Theyre mopping up the butchers floor

Of your broken little hearts



O children



Forgive us now for what weve done

It started out as a bit of fun

Here, take these before we run away

The keys to the gulag