We give you the beat
We sang loudly and with lots of sounds
And wanted to resound
In all the heavens like the nightingale
But God was deaf to every sound
So we want to sing a song of this
Now with your permission
Crying of pleasure when facing a woman
At the funeral feast in the house of pleasure
We praise ourselves with songs
In the coal shaft and in a suburban night
In fireland at the gull beach
They hear us again and again
We disturb you in your silence
When your ears ring out
Then we thrum a beat to it
On your eardrums
We sing on and on
Up to our last leg
Out of smoky black throats
We sing the way we like it
We may have disturbed some people
With infernal chorals
We disturb you in your silence
When your ears ring out
Then we thrum a beat to it
On your eardrums
Only sometimes when an angel approaches
Our noise becomes malefaction
Then we become all silent
And whisper it to the angel