Beautiful South Woman In The Wall
He was just a social drinker but social every night He enjoyed a pint or two or three or four She was just a silent thinker, silent every night He'd enjoy the thought of killing her before Well he was very rarely drunk but very rarely sober And he didn't think the problem was his drink But he only knew his problem when he knocked her over And when the rotting flesh began to stink Cry freedom for the woman in the wall Cry freedom for she has no voice at all I hear her cry all day, all night I hear her voice from deep within the wall Made a cross from knitting needles Made a grave from hoover bags Especially for the woman in the wall She'd knitted him a jumper with dominoes on So he wore it everyday in every week Pretended to himself that she hadn't really gone Pretended that he thought he beard her speak Then at last it seemed that he was really winning He felt that he had some sort of grip But all of his new life was sent a-spinning When the rotting wall began to drip
