Here her head, she lay
Until she'd rise and say
I'm starved of mirth
Let's go and trip a dwarf

Oh, what to be done with her?
Oh, what to be done with her?

Ice water for blood
With neither heart or spine
And then just
To pass time
Let's go and rob the blind

What to be done with her?
I ask myself
What to be said of her?

But when she calls me
I do not walk, I run
Oh, when she calls
I do not walk, I run