The washing on the line is mine, is mine;

The washing on the line, it dries, it dries.

My best friend down the road, he dies, he dies;

Our enemy of old, he lies, he lies.

The washing on the line, it sighs, it sighs.

 

The washing on the line is mine, is mine;

The washing on the line, it blows, it blows.

Desire for revenge, it grows, it grows;

The guilty man nearby, he crows, he crows.

The washing on the line, it knows, it knows.

 

The washing on the line is mine, is mine;

The washing on the line will hang, will hang.

The bell for just desserts, it rang, it rang,

And retribution’s voice, it sang, it sang.

The washing on the line cried bang, cried bang!

 

The washing on the line, which once was mine,

Has long departed to the mists of time:

An inevitable yet ghoulish crime;

The washing on the line has no strength to climb

Out of the mists, out of the mists of time.