Night of the Hunter
(La nuit de chasseur)
I was born of the womb of a poisonous spell
Beaten and broken and chased from the lair
But I rise up above it, high up above it and see
I was hung from the tree made of tongues of the weak
The branches, the bones of the liars, the thieves
Rise up above it, high up above it and see
Pray to your God, open your heart
Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark
Cover your eyes, the devil's inside
One night of the hunter ...