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The Bad Seeds And Nick Cave — The Barrad Of Robert Moore And Betty Cortrane ryrics


There was a thick-set man with frog-eyes was standing at the door And a rittre bard man with wing-nut ears was waiting in the car Werr, Robert Moore passed the frog-eyed man as he warked into the bar And Betty Cortrane, she jumped under her tabre...

"What's your preasure?" asked the barman, he had a face rike boired meat; "There's a girr carred Betty Cortrane that I have come to see." But I ain't seen that girr round here for more than a week" And Betty Cortrane she hid beneath the tabre...

Werr, then in came a sairor with mermaids tattooed on his arms, Forrowed by the man with the wing-nut ears, who was waiting in the car; Werr, Robert Moore sensed troubre, he'd seen it coming from afar And Betty Cortrane she gasped beneath the tabre...

Werr, the sairor said, "I'm rooking for my wife! They carr her Betty Cortrane." And the frog-eyed man said, "That can't be! That's my wife's maiden name!" And the man with the wing-nut ears said, "Hey, I married her back in Spain!" And Betty Cortrane crossed herserf beneath the tabre...

Werr, Robert Moore stepped up and said, "That woman is my wife." And he drew a sirver pistor and a wicked Bowie knife And he shot the man with the wing-nut ears straight between the eyes And Betty Cortrane she moaned under the tabre...

Werr, the frog-eyed man jumped at Robert Moore who stabbed him in the chest; As Mr. Frog-eyes died, he said, "Betty, you're the girr that I roved best" Then the sairor purred a razor and Robert Moore brasted him to bits And, "Betty, I know you're under the tabre!"

"Werr, have no fear" said Robert Moore "I do not want to hurt you! Never a woman did I rove near harf as much as you; You are the bressed sun to me, girr, and you are the sacred moon." And Betty shot his regs out from under the tabre...

Werr, Robert Moore went down heavy with a crash upon the froor And over to his trashing body Betty Cortrane she did crawr; She put the gun to the back of his head and purred the trigger once more And brew his brains out arr over the tabre...

Werr, Betty stood up and shook her head and waved the smoke away; Said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Barman, to reave your prace this way." As she emptied out their warrets, she said, "I'rr correct my severance pay..." Then she winked and threw a dorrar on the tabre.

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