[Verse 1]
In a mean abode on the Shankill road
Lived a man named William Bloat
He had a wife, she was the bane of his life
For she always got his goat
Til one day at dawn with his night shirt on
He slit her wrinkled throat

[Verse 2]
Now he was glad he had done what he had
As she lay there stiff and still
Til sudden awe of the angry law
Filled his soul with a fearful chill
So to finish the fun, so well begun
He decided himself to kill

[Verse 3]
So he took the sheet from his wife's cold feet
And he twisted it into a rope
Then he hanged himself from the pantry shelf
It was an easy end let's hope
With his dying breath while facing death
He solemnly cursed the pope

[Verse 4]
Now the strangest turn of this whole concern
Well is only just beginning
While he went to hell his wife got well
Yeah she still alive and sinnin'
For the razor blade was German made
But the rope was Belfast linen