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Long gone merrily up high In hell our fiddler's swinging: Long gone! Hanging in the sky His neck in tightrope wringing Qua a-a-a-artered and drawn be his intestines! Qua a-a-a-artered and drawn be his intestines! Short drop choke him for a while A dancing, dangling pirate Take him while he's still alive And cut off his all his privates Qua a-a-a-artered and drawn be his intestines! Qua a-a-a-artered and drawn be his intestines! Paid your heinous aweful crimes They broke off all your fingers No morе beautiful rhymes Your Parting song, werе singing Qua a-a-a-artered and drawn be your intestines! Qua a-a-a-artered and drawn be your intestines! Buried soon below, below Our crippled fiddler swungen Where no flowers ever grow No priest or people sungen Qua a-a-a-artered and drawn be your intestines! Qua a-a-a-artered and drawn be your intestines! From Letras Mania