I've been gone a long time, a long time, a long time
Now the thieve turns to the priest and from godsend to grief he descends
I'll be gone a long time, a long time, a long time
Before the shoot and the seed; before that weather-stricken man I'll receive
But I'll come clean; I'll come to clean
I'll come to wipe off the dust and still his knees
Then I'll be free
I've stood by and I have sat, I have sat, I have sat
I came to see my lover's eyes, and there reply that O, my soul, I deny
I've sat close, and far behind, far behind, far behind
And in that seat, all aware, I saw a girl leave alone, eyes despaired
But I'll come clean; I'll come to clean
I'll come to wipe off the dust and still her knees
Then I'll be free
By the tree, on a hill, on a hill, on a hill
There ran a fox, a rouge of sorts, and from the ground to his nest he descends
I have cried, but have not wept, I have not wept, I have not wept
Now by bus they arrive for the funeral, a two-way ticket held
But I'll come clean; I'll come to clean
I'll come to wipe off the dust and still their knees
O, set me free