• and the wickerman came,
    and took their life away,
    and the broken man died,
    and carried them away,
    and then the fires started,
    every other day,
    and the wickerman came,
    and took their life away,

    something she said
    didnt do them no good,
    they didnt know when and what they should do,
    so they turned into dust,
    and burned away,

    and the wickerman sang,
    and crawled with them into the sun,
    and they all turned to dust,
    and drifted until you, I, and them were all one

    and a crack of a whip,
    the sound of a gun,
    were all lost to the smoke,
    of all that we were,
    and all that we are,
    it came back into one,
    and took away one by one

    until you are left with a match,
    and a wicker man