I hear stories from the chamber,
How Christ was born into a manger,
And like some ragged stranger died up on the cross,
And might I say it seems to fitting in its way,
He was a carpenter by trade,
Or at least that's what I'm told. (Nick Cave)

I hear stories from the chamber, How Christ was born into a manger, And like some ragged stranger died up on the cross, And might I say it seems to fitting in its way, He was a carpenter by trade, Or at least that's what I'm told.

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