Take us to the doldrums, to soothe strangled soul
Grant deaths rescue, unshackle minds not hands to pray;

for cold black hearts, the bell will toll.
Wicked leashing labour, a brimming sugar bowl;

By the sticky leather hiss, on peut regarder

Take us to the doldrums, to soothe strangled soul.
Cruel iron clinks and kind iron chimes up a barking pole,

No word to whisper nor song to play;

For cold black hearts, the bell will toll.
Leap into the white whirling hole;
A bliss beyond a bastards bay
Take us to the doldrums, too soothe strangled soul.

Cease our blistered bodies of natures callous;
But assemble theirs for judgement day;
For cold black hearts the bell will toll

Paint limbs with drips across the scroll

of sticks black, white and grey.
Take us to the Doldrums to soothe strangled soul;
For cold black hearts the bell will toll.