The Graveyard Of The Outcast Dead Frank Turner

[Verse 1]
They buried my body on Christmas
In the ground by the south river bank
Worked to my death, for my very last breath
I'd the Winchester bishops to thank
Now the church held the keys to the brothel
Lit the window with a burning red light
While I teased the funds from the pockets of johns
The bishop got rich in the night

[Pre-Chorus 1]
But I didn't fall apart
Through my years in the dark
For my lover I guarded
My pure, pure heart

[Chorus]
And he meets me in the graveyard
The graveyard where they made my bed
Plants a white flower under cold stars
On the grave of the forgotten dead

[Verse 2]
Now the bishops snuck off to fresh pastures
While my grave was grown over with weeds
No burial plots, just some forget-me-nots
For the women they branded unclean
The wasteland was claimed by the city
They covered it with tenement slums
For where we'd been left had never been blessed
And they dug down and built on our bones