T.S.! Lyrics

I heaved a cutlass, in the salt marsh.
Other echoes inhabit the garden.
(Should we follow?)
Six hands at an open door,
Dicing for silver.

T.S.! T.S.! T.S., I know you are the one.
There will be time to murder and create,
While Sweeney guards the horned gate.

Below the boarhound, and the boar,
With feet kicking the empty wineskins,
Driven on the winds, that sweep the gloomy hills of London.
Gathered on the beach of the tumid river!

T.S.! T.S.! T.S., I know you are the one.
There will be time to murder and create,
While Sweeney guards the horned gate.