The Decemberists - Culling of the FoldCut him up, girl.
Really cut him up girl
He lives by himself,
In a hole in a wall
You’ve got to cut him up, girl.
You can take him in a stitch,
Dump his body in a ditch
Leave his limbs all naked,
That’ll teach him how to take it,
Better cut him up girl.
Ply her heart with gold and silver.
Take your sweetheart down to the river.
Dash her on the paving stones,
It may break your heart to break her bones,
But someone’s got to do the culling of the fold.