The woman in blue, she's asking for revenge,
The man in white -- that's you -- says he has no friends.
The river is swollen up with rusty cans
And the trees are burning in your promised land.
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in the mine.

Well, you tell me that your lover has a broken limb,
You say you're kind of restless now and it's on account of him.
Well, I saw the man in question, it was just the other night,
He was eating up a lady where the lions and Christians fight.

And there are no letters in the mailbox
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in the mine.

(You tell them now)

Ah, there is no comfort in the covens of the witch,
Some very clever doctor went and sterilized the bitch,
And the only man of energy, yes the revolution's pride,
He trained a hundred women just to kill an unborn child.

And there are no letters in the mailbox,
Oh no, there are no, no grapes upon your vine,
And there are, there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in your mine.
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in your mine.