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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Jem Finer
Banjo
Shane MacGowan
Vocals
James Fearnley
Accordion
Terry Woods
Mandolin
Darryl Hunt
Bass Guitar
Andrew Ranken
Drums
Philip Chevron
Guitar
Spider Stacy
Tin Whistle
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jem Finer
Songwriter
Shane MacGowan
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Paul Cobbold
Engineer
Joe Strummer
Producer
Lyrics
Life's a bitch, then you die, black Hell
Hell's Ditch, naked howling freedom
The killer's hands are bound with chains
At six o'clock, it starts to rain
He'll never see the dawn again
Our lady of the flowers
Genet's feeling Ramon's dick
The guy in the bunk above gets sick
In the cell next door the lunatic
Starts screaming for his mother
Black dildo, black Hell
As the Spanish cops ridiculed my gel
A mugshot, I remember well
Little man, you have suffered
I could hear the screams from up above
If it ain't a fist, it isn't love
As for our lady, she kneels down
Her neck is bent, the blade comes down
Dawn, there goes the breakfast bell
Back from Heaven, back to Hell
Naked howling freedom, Hell's Ditch
Writer(s): Shane Patrick Lysaght Macgowan, Jeremy Max Finer
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