his palace is of skulls his crown is the last splinter of the last vessel alive his place is amongst the skulls his throne is scaffold of bones some hang things by his stretcher carry on carry on his palace is of skulls his mode is a river of fangs and antlers and tusks and needles and knives and guns carry on carry on carry on you re the king of carrion carry on carry on carry on you re the king his kingdom is empty now the emptiness of the last cry that hugely and hopelessly away away away away can t you hear the desert singing carry on carry on carry on hills and and mountains ringin carry on carry on carry on carry on 