Lyrics:

I can hear them ranting
Like a choir of angels, those cunts

Not singing nor dancing here;
All eyes down for the casting
Spell trough scraped dry

Practising our sincerest sorrows;
All full faced to the grind of stone

The drag of that inert through toil of chained wrought sinew
Ragged faces turned up to the rain
Staring down; drawing down the rain
Staring down; drawing down the rain
Drawing down the rain
Drawing down

All our ears are open / all our eyes are smiling
Gracelessly receiving empty threats of heaven

As grist to and from these dark Satanic mills
A barren wasteland dreamt through streets of prescription mist
There is no attenuating this
No attenuating this

Holes in the heart of this city
Holes

Drawing down the rain

Heaven calling; calling through sewer-gratings