There's a cold dawn when the night's gone
Lost our hold on right and wrong
Blood and soil, endless toil
Sing the Old World The Devil's song

I've been smoking fine tobacco
From my burled-walnut pipe

I'm imbibing from my chalice
On fine spirits of the night

Not quite Hell or Heaven
Somewhere in between
We can feel it slipping
No one to believe, to believe

Painted smile, laughing wild
Dagger hiding behind the back
Gone too far now, bleed it out now
The beasts are hungry, it's time to feed

Not quite Hell or Heaven
Somewhere in between
We can feel it slipping
No one to believe, to believe

There's a cold dawn when the night's gone
Losing hold of right and wrong
Sing the Old World, The Devil's toil
The debts come due now, it won't be long
It won't be long...