Some evil times the wrath becomes me
Sometimes it plays with my guitars
It always moves smoothly down my strings
Passes me on to a new disguise
But never shall the wrath become me
Never shall it spill the wine
Or dine upon my childish little gown
Meant to erase your bloody evening frown
Skip the sorries and don't matters
forget about my soul's shatters
leave me be with the evil sun
the good moon must outrun...
[Mrs. Tambourine]