Alleyman, oh Alleyman,
Your foe and friends in tow,
The purse of gold rolls in your hand,
Those voices rumbling low,
Alleyman, oh Alleyman,
The town has heard your mutter,
It sits in wait, hopes to be spared,
The hand that swings the cutter,
Tell me this, oh Alleyman,
Where does the fortune go?
Who pays the price at roll of dice,
And slows the watchman's row?
I swore I saw the Alleyman,
Out in the dim lit haze,
A finger kissed against my lips,
So I might loose my gaze.
