The captains fore-arm like bunched-up rope. With A-N-I-T-A wrigglin' free on a skull 'n dagger. And a portrait of Christ, nailed to an anchor. Etched into his upper.
I am the black crow king. I am the black crow king. The Keeper of the nodding corn. . All the hammers are a-talking, all the nails are a-singing. So sweet and low, you can hear it in the valley.