All language subtitles for Deadwood S03E08 Leviathan Smiles (1080p x265 10bit Joy)

[THEME MUSIC PLAYING]

-Right there.
-Okay.

[CLANGING]

Be careful as you walk.

Just leave them here.

[KNOCKS]

23... four, five, six.

51, 52.

[DOOR CLOSES]

"The latest news."

Martha:
I fail to understand,

if I who am most affected
am not disturbed, why you should be.

Perhaps I'm disturbed by a reason
different from what you believe.

Forgive me then for believing
the one you've given.

I disapprove of changing from day to day
when the school is to be relocated.

-Speak to the theater people then.
-What disturbs me

is your accepting
the uncertainty without quarrel.

For whatever reason, the theater people
keep deferring their moving in.

I don't want the children to feel
they're leaving vacant what has been

their place of education. I want them
to leave it as a place with new life.

-Fine, Martha.
-What good would quarreling with them do?

-Fine.
-It seems you waked intent we quarrel.

-[SIGHS]
-Nor, may I say, claiming you were pleased

with the outcome of your meeting
with the other men of the camp,

did you retire last night
with your customary sweetness.

Do please then forgive me...
for Christ's sake!

[SIGHS]

Do please forgive me.

[DOOR CLOSES]

Mornin'.

SETH: How did Hearst
take the letter?

I don't know.
Is the paper even out yet?

Guess you don't fuckin' know much.

Do you, Sol?

I guess I don't.

Do you want to fight?

-[GUNSHOTS]
-MAN: Whoo!

[GUNSHOTS]

-[GUNSHOT]
-Whoo! Whoo.

Teamster:
Hold on! Whoa!

Whoa! Road agents...

-ambushed us a couple of miles out!
-Anyone hurt?

Cocksuckers dropped a tree
across the road.

We just come up on it and they started
shootin' from the fuckin' ridgeline.

Would have lost
the strongbox sure, Sheriff,

if not for them there that laid down
rifle fire as covered us.

Whoo! Fuck me! Holy fuck.

Holy fuck, right, Wyatt?

-I'd like to buy you both a fucking drink.
-That's a big fucking yes from both of us.

You hit anyone?

No, we were just trying
to drive 'em off, Sheriff.

-How many were there?
-Two or three.

I heard one of 'em
shout like you winged 'em.

They was dodging behind stumps
and making for cover.

Hey. Why don't you go in there
and get drunk with them,

let the Sheriff and I finish our talk?

All right.

Little brother's got me for a hero.

What's your name?

I'm Wyatt, and going in there
to get drunk is Morgan Earp.

I was a lawman in Dodge City,

before that in Wichita.

But I ain't looking
for none of that here.

-What are you looking for?
-We got a timber lease.

You and your brother?

What's your name?

Seth Bullock.

How do you do?

There is a fella that wants
to buy you a drink.

Over at The Gem.

All right.

Shall I authorize a watering and feeding
of these gentlemen's horses, Sheriff?

As mayor?
As a gesture from the camp?

One at a time...

lest they drag you
to a deserved demise.

Ugh, fuck.

It's me, Jane.

If you want the bed, I'm leaving.

Don't go nowhere on my account.

I'm a fuckin' floor sleeper anyway.

I want to find fruit for
the schoolchildren's morning snack.

Uh, I'm up, I'm up, I'm up.

I'll get the hell out of here.
[SNIFFLES]

Why not stay?

I got errands all morning myself.
[SNIFFLES]

If you just heard me fart, excuse me.

Will you come back later?

Uh...

maybe maybe.

It's heads or tails where
any fuckin' day will take me.

[JANE PANTING]

I'll not have vile affections

or uncleanness on these premises!

Find my specific meaning at

Romans I:24-26...

Fuck yourself

with a fist punch up your ass

today at the present moment.

I gotta go.

I'm moving out of that fucking place.

Not me. Not me.
I never fuckin' moved in.

And verses following.

Don't think you was offered
a job here last night.

Gauging the fucking level you'd
fucking presume to was all that was.

Maybe you declined 'cause you thought you
ought to be partners in the fuckin' business,

name on the signage like a human's

or God hadn't set man apart
from the fucking beasts!

I got an errand, then I'm going
to San Francisco.

We will never be equal,
sign or fucking no.

And if I agreed to your name
on the signage,

we would know the fucking truth still.

Fucking nigger bastard!

Assuming to leave
without my consent.

[SIGHS]

Not without a fucking saddle, he won't.

Not if I hide his fucking saddle

till he reveals fucking Hostetler's

nigger voodoo ciphering methods.

So accounts ain't constantly

to be carried around in the man's mind

till he lives in terror of taking a drink!

Implying what by that
fucking lordly look?

That he'll outflank my tactics
buying a new fucking saddle?

Then I don't suppose you'll mind
the improved fucking strategy

involves you coming unshod behind.

Now give me a fucking hoof.

Yeah.

There we go.

[NEIGHING]

[SIGHS]
That's right.

Harp and fucking criticize

until there's a fucking
solution in the offing,

and then become fucking obstinate.

Now, for the last fucking time,

give me a fucking hoof.

Come sneaking up like an injun.

Can't wait on your boy
no longer, Miss Lady.

Bow on that money
is the same one you tied.

I'm grateful you waited
on him as long as you did.

It ain't being none of my business
gonna stop me

from asking how your boy's talk
with Hearst went.

Odell gonna meet up
in New York City

with a man works for Mr. Hearst.

-Go back with him to Liberia.
-Ah.

Odell say if Mr. Hearst wanted,

he'd harm him here,
get to see the hurt he'd done.

Well, your water broke open a damn
smart nigger, didn't it, Aunt Lou?

You think there's sense to that?

More than I've made since
I've learned to talk.

No place I guess you can
hide a child from danger.

If I knew, I'd keep that spot for myself.
[CHUCKLES]

And can I fix you
something to take away?

-Something with meat and heat to it.
-Come on, stand next to me.

-Here, let me get that for you.
-Thank you, sir.

Myself and him over there,
my strong right arm,

along with Tom Nuttall
that runs the Saloon No. 10,

-was the first operators in this here camp.
-So.

Turned the first card,
sold the first booze and snatch.

Road agents, story goes,

don't work these hills but by my leave.

Which if that's true, explains why

I'm fucking interested
in what you're telling.

-So.
-So...

go the fuck ahead
and tell me then.

Me and my brother happened along

and we balked some unknown parties

who was having
a few shots at the stage.

That's all.

Ears flat back to the head,

nose without boils, fucking modest...

A proper hero, Dan.

How many unknown parties?

-Uh, two or maybe three.
-At what remove from you?

-100 feet and more.
-Describe 'em.

Nah, they broke off.
We returned fire.

Describe 'em.

My meaning would be them firing,

I didn't get a good fucking
look at them.

I'd also say you're fucking free
with your reprehending tone.

Drink?

All right.

My opinion...
It may come out of vanity...

Your tale's full of shit,

I say, or else I'd have known of 'em.
There was no road agents.

I say...

to make a hero's entrance into camp,
you and your friend kicked up dust,

whooped and hollered and played
all the parts yourselves.

-Who is that with you?
-It's my brother.

This was my idea.

Any others?

Not brothers, ideas...
How to pass your time in camp.

I got a timber lease to work.

-Come by how?
-Cards, last night in Custer City.

Small chance that you want

to explore options to working your lease,

anyone hires your gun,
you report to me.

I'll double what they're paying you.

But your story ought
be true, you understand?

I'll test the sense of it,

that knows more of this place

and I guess every other than you do.

If you choose to fell the timber,

axes, wedges, block and tackle

sheriff has at the hardware store.

[DOOR OPENS]

All right.

-[DOOR CLOSES]
-You figure Hearst will take a run at him?

Hmm. Good cooking,
big-hearted fat lady

presiding over my rest,

I wouldn't be headed
for San Francisco.

She'd probably know
what I'm talking about...

How the wicked live.

And are always at fucking ease.

Or just plain drunk before noon.

[WHEEZING]

Wyatt.

Wyatt, this here's Jen,

whose sister it turns out
the both of us have knowed...

Mary Bess from
the Yellowbird in Gunnison.

Even prettier.

I was speaking to Jen of that $11...

We got to go acquire them tools.

That I loaned her sister?

We was working out
the forgiveness of the debt.

Well, you can work out
her forgiveness later.

I thought we was gonna capitalize
on the good will we created.

Seeing to our fucking capitalizing
means more than getting your end wet.

Here.

This will buy the tools
to cut our lumber.

What are you going to do?

The next fucking step of my plan.

-To capitalize?
-You go ahead down to that hardware place.

-I can see to the tree cutting and more.
-Only start with seeing to the trees.

-Or don't you think I'm able?
-Jesus Christ, Morgan.

-Now probably I'll be in this place.
-Well, what did he want upstairs?

You ain't got time for me
to get into that.

-HEARST: Morning.
-Good morning, Mr. Hearst.

Very constructive reminder
in this morning's edition.

12 days to the election.

Will you continue to show that calendar,

uh, 11, 10 days, so on?

Assuming my press stays intact.

-[BOTH LAUGH]
-Thanks, too, for publishing

Sheriff Bullock's letter of condolence to
the family of that murdered worker of mine.

Oh, you're welcome.

I suppose I should
have written them myself.

I'd not presume to suppose in that regard,
Mr. Hearst, one way or another.

Was the sheriff's making his letter
part of the public record

meant to embarrass or reproach me?

I'd not suppose in that connection either.

I'm to take you for majestically neutral?

I'd make the less exalted claim,

as a journalist, of keeping
my opinions to myself.

You are less majestically neutral than...

Than cloaking your cowardice
in principle?

I can only answer perhaps, Mr. Hearst,

events have not yet disclosed
to me all that I am.

Those kind of events could be
in the weather, Merrick.

You might have a second
calendar for them.

The fella all those hats was
up in the air about, Mr. T.

Ah.

Claims he drove off them road agents.

Elrod Yulham
from Galena, Illinois.

Uh, afraid not.

Oh, I see now. You got more flare
about the nostrils than Elrod.

Uh, this here gentleman's
a hero, Mr. Tolliver.

Thwarted a band of brigands
attacking the stage out of Cheyenne.

Leon:
Three, craps.

Don't levy the man's wager, Leon.

His throw got queered
by Con's chatter.

Leon:
Last was no roll.

Cy Tolliver, sir.
It's a honor to meet you.

Thanks in the name of us all.

We just happened to happen by.

That's the first I hear of a we.

-Six is the point. Point six.
-Well, I come into camp with my brother.

Who would be where
at this present juncture?

Well, we acquired a timber lease.

He's out buying tools for us to work it.

Tools to work a timber lease.
[CHUCKLES]

I guess you're even more a hero,

guns being out of your line.

I didn't call them
a fully foreign subject now.

I see.

I see.
[CHUCKLES]

Eight. Point six.

Pay the man, Leon.

But I didn't make my point.

You did to me.

We ought try...

to cross the road...

today.

[WHEEZING]

The thoroughfare's a menace.

Ruts, sinkholes, quick slimes.

[WET COUGHING]

[GASPING]

You're the producer, Jack.

You'll manage.

[MOANS, WHEEZING]

[MOANS]

Forgive my presumption, sir.

Have you lanceolate
pains hereabouts?

Yes.

Intermittent, but sudden,
sharp in onset,

occasioned by a tilt of a shoulder,
a shift of weight?

I may try ice-water dousing.

Ah.

A German doctor
in Virginia City urged me to it.

A vogue, if you would
permit me to say,

now quite exploded,

even recognized
as possibly harmful.

-Really?
-Yeah.

The cold causing
too rapid and painful

a contraction of muscles
already knotted in spasm.

-I see.
-I am aware of a certain technique

by whose virtue I was
gradually and by degrees

relieved of a similar
suffering of my own.

You are?

Blessed by my pain's
entire remission

for 15 years,

one month and three days.
[CHUCKLES]

I dread the prospect
of ice-water dousing.

Taught me by a former Odabashi
of the Turkish artillery,

come himself to be afflicted

through chronic lifting
of cast-iron cannonballs.

Can you help me...
[COUGHS]

Who does not know your name?

-John Langrishe, sir.
-Ah.

Permit me to say

you are known to me.

-George Hearst.
-Yes.

Oh, yes.

Would later today be convenient
to start, George Hearst?

Indeed.

[GRUNTS, CHUCKLES]

-Better today?
-No better...

nor will be to take him
in a day to come.

Be good enough
to inform the artisans

they will not be renovating
after recess at the school.

Prepare his transport.

We are going to show him
the theater.

-Will you help me?
-I've other fucking business.

[DICE RATTLING]

[BLOWS]

Seven out.

Wyatt:
Motherless whore.

Speaking against
the establishment's interests,

you might leave with a rosier outlook
still holding some of our money.

[BOTH CHUCKLING]

[SIGHS]

Leon:
Big winner on the day.

Well, those appear
to have propagated.

[LAUGHS]

He worsens, Mrs. Bullock,

never to improve, I'm afraid.

I'm very sorry, Mr. Langrishe.

Hope having postponed the old actor's
visit to what will be our theater,

its abandonment now argues
the visit's urgent execution.

-I understand.
-Forcing this directness upon me.

When, Mrs. Bullock, today
will your classes stand in recess?

How soon could you have him here?

The logistics of his transport

and the histrionics of his porter
may not make it till late this afternoon.

I'll cancel the session
right after the recess.

Bless you.

And thanks

[TAPS]

Oh. Beautiful.

-[SOFTLY] I got ammunition left.
-I see that.

I didn't order any shotgun.

I'm doing you the courtesy
of allowing you

not to think I'm as stupid
as evidently you believe

that girl off who you tore
that piece of pussy off of is.

The girl's sister owed me money.

From the Yellowbird in Gunnison.

Well, Jen claims you worked
that information from her.

-That her sister owed me money?
-Yeah.

Did she tell you how I did it?

'Cause I'd sure like to remember
for the next time I'm short.

Worked it from her
at this very bar in idle chatter...

Having a sister who whored
at the Yellowbird in Gunnison,

and only then alleged
the supposed owed $11.

[WHISTLES] How long you been
wearing shoes, Counselor?

Did you fuck off the full 11?

She claims $5 was owed,

but my inkling
is the right total was seven.

-Thanks.
-Mm-hm.

Where are the tools, Morgan?

That is a story in itself.

You say it weren't an ass fuck,

I believe you.

You buying those
goddamn tools or not?

I wouldn't have chose them
not meaning to buy.

As opposed to leaving chosen goods

piled in the middle of the fucking store

for every other piece of business
to be conducted over and around.

It's customary to stand by
till the transaction's finished.

Morgan:
I was called elsewhere.

Seth:
"Elsewhere"... meaning The Gem?

You wouldn't be doubting
my brother's word?

Pay for the tools and remove them,

and I'll cease to doubt
your ability to do so.

How's that?

There is no losing in a match
like that, Mr. Hearst.

-Never been much for draws.
-Well, I... I...

I meant to say,
let the matter be joined aright,

whether Bullock or this gunsel stood at the
finish, there's no losing in it for you.

What does "joined aright" mean?

Say Bullock was first provoked
out the public eye,

so his throwing down
in public seemed...

overquick.

There's all kinds of
implications to that,

legal and political too.

Have you taken steps

to join this matter aright?

Only steps I took so far, Mr. Hearst,
was to bring me into your presence.

As to what steps will be required

if you give the go-ahead,

easy as the sheriff sparks
and cocky look as this kid wears,

the number should be few.

I would suggest,
to keep you fucking protected,

that the kid should think I'm at the helm.

Very circumspect.
Very considerate.

-[KNOCK ON DOOR]
-[COUGHING, WHEEZING]

There are the blankets.

Oh, there they are.
[CHUCKLES]

You are excused
by age and illness.

I am simply stupid.

Oh, no.
[CHUCKLES]

At a minimum,
unforgivably forgetful.

My dear boy,

we are here now,

you and I and the blankets.

-[WHEEZING, COUGHING]
-Yes yes. Um...

I wonder where the chair would be
in which I'm to be transported.

Oh, that the countess
and Claudia should be wheeling

across the thoroughfare
even as we speak.

[COUGHING]

We shall swaddle you
like the baby Jesus,

making the most simple
and economical of transactions

to transfer you to the countess

and Claudia's chair once they arrive.

All right.

All right.
[MOANS]

Is he dying? Is he dead?

He's in a bad fucking way.

Here. Take that for
his care and burying.

Let me get my fucking horse past.

And let the bank know
someone don't take over this place

-that loan they made Steve is going bad.
-Why don't you tell them?

'Cause I'm a nigger, Doc,
that don't care what stands or falls.

-Hostetler was too.
-Hostetler was taller than me.

Fuck you, Steve.

Fuck you, Hostetler.

And fuck you too!

I can ask Jane Cannary
to see to keeping him comfortable.

See to her bringing back
a bottle while you're at it.

I'll linger, look to these animals
till the bank sends someone over.

That chair is hotel property.

I will deal with the bathhouse
administrator, believe you me.

-Shoo. Shoo.
-Where have you been?

Pushing this contraption
through the muck.

To the bathhouse, it was on loan.

[SNICKERS] Wait till you see
what they do there.

Stay right there, Bellegarde.

We're already knee-deep in shit.

[BOTH GROAN]

Are those assholes working for you?

-Those heroes that saved the stage?
-That Dority collected.

Once he confessed to the stretch,
I put the one on a fucking string.

$200 in merchandise

in the middle of our store
like an interrupted shit.

Commerce. Every hump
above ground's your master.

-That letter was a fucking mistake.
-No.

I'm not waiting on Hearst,
I'll tell you that right now.

I am not on his fucking timetable,

or at his fucking beck and call.

-[KNOCKS]
-Yeah?

AW Merrick, Al.

Cheyenne and Black Hills Telegraph.

Is Sheriff Bullock inside?

Only briefly. He's out of sorts

and going downstairs for a blow job.

Al:
Come in for fuck's sake!

Telegram for Sheriff Bullock.

What reaction to your publication
of Bullock's letter?

The great man himself took umbrage.

It was not a mistake,

and we are waiting on Hearst.

Unless you think those
two assholes are his response.

Not likely.

[BLAZANOV CLEARS THROAT]

Uh, the sheriff is going for blow job?

Now having paid,

may we leave our tools here

till we go out tomorrow to our lease?

I've had a wire...

says your statement is true,
far as having worked as a lawman.

Not asking why you've put
the work aside,

I'll say only some that do find themselves
ready and uniquely able

to work the other side of the street.

Some do that.

I took the badge off myself once...

without losing my impulse
to beat on certain types.

No, that seems never to go.

-[KNOCKS]
-Not now!

LOU: Could I come back
soon then, Mr. Hearst?

God damn it.

Come in, Aunt Lou.
Come in now.

Boots are in the corner.

I'd pay a man three weeks
of my wages, Mr. Hearst,

rode quick to catch my son
and give him this from his mama.

Searched and searched
before he left.

Come to find it with him gone.

A lovely garnet.
It does seem a moral law

we find what we seek only tardily.

Would you send somebody, sir?

My imagination resists the approach,

in that however quickly
he might catch Odell,

until he did, the man would know he rode
in the service of a colored person.

I'd suggest, having packed
the brooch carefully and securely,

we ship it to New York,
where my man Fitzpatrick

can give it to your son
when he arrives.

All right.

Are you afraid that by his
not receiving today

the token of your love,

something untoward
might befall Odell?

Are you superstitious
that way, Aunt Lou?

Thanks for seeing to those.
It's the reason I thought you'd knocked.

Maybe we should head
out for the lease.

Well, now has the sun rose
since last I looked?

Or more than you let on previous,
do you even know the path we're going?

No, I do not fucking know.

Second look, he don't seem such
a bad sort, that fucking sheriff.

Maybe we ought to be fucking deputies,
work our lease on the fucking side.

Well, did you hear him offer us work?

Well, then let's kill him and take his job.

WYATT: On the other hand,
here is a man who might be about to.

The one that has a plan for you
that factors into yours for us?

-Do not fucking turn around, Morgan.
-[WHISPERS] I thought he didn't show up.

-[WYATT CLEARS THROAT]
-Well well.

This the hero brother I heard about?

This is him... Morgan Earp.

Morgan, meet Mr. Tolliver,
who operates the joint.

-How do you do, Morgan?
-How do you do?

-What a beautiful fucking joint.
-Well, we'd like to think so.

Come on, you fucknut.

Without a day's education,

medical or otherwise,

I vouchsafe this fucking truth:
Those as don't eat

without exception fail to survive.

[SIGHS]

Fuck ya.

[SIGHS]

He's all yours.

Thanks for your help.

Yup.

You heard the lady, Steve.

Them that goes on
have got to fucking eat.

Cocksucker.
[LAUGHING]

Cocksucker.

Do for me, Mr. Hearst,

and much more for yourself,

this one important thing.

Breathe, sir.

Breathe deeply,

hungrily,

as if your life depended on it.

[INHALES RAPIDLY]

And yet slowly,

as with the rhythm of the waves

of the sea.

The while, Mr. Hearst,

allowing influx

of my motion's heat.

Do you begin to feel it, man?

-[MUFFLED] I think so.
-Hmm?

I said I think so.

Then too...

begin to feel this:

One towards the neck

and one towards the coccyx.

-Ooh!
-What?

-My God!
-Are you all right?

-I am. How are you?
-Ah.

-Some release in tension?
-Ja.

Yes.

[LAUGHS]
Yes, by God.

Is the pain diminished
in some measure?

It is.

[GROANS]

[GASPING]

Now lie still, sir.

-[GROANS]
-As your nodals

settle to the adjustment.

Try to sleep.

I don't want to sleep.
I'm waiting for something.

Very well, please yourself.

Ow.

Second look, she may have
decided it didn't suit.

This hasn't said...

anything yet to spare my feelings.

I don't believe Mrs. Bullock
is that sort.

I believe them theater people

not moving in yet, she feels no call

to disrupt her education activities

by moving the children out yet from

the Chez Amis into this place here.

In other words,

exactly what she said.

Does it trouble you,

keeping watch on a dark place?

No, ma'am, it does not.

Especially when I know

there's light coming to it.

One sorry-ass...

shit-eating cocksucker.

Claudia and the countess
have embroidered the tabs in gold:

Thalia and Melpomene.

Big lie...

the masks.

Same damn thing, Jack...

Comedy and tragedy.

The curtain rises.

The stage is set before us.

What's the rake?

18 to one, old trouper.

Ohh.

Dost thou know Dover?

There is a cliff

whose high unbending head

looks fearfully on the confined deep.

Bring me back to the brim of it,

and from that place

I shall no leading need.

Here's the fly tower.

If you mount up,

take firm a rail in each hand.

I'll boost your bum, darling.

Here's the place.

How fearful and dizzy it is

to cast one's eyes so low.

Set me where you stand.

Let go my hand.

You're now

within a foot.

Line.

L-line.

[SIGHS]

Our Father which art in heaven,
hallowed be Thy name.

He's gone.

We'll see to him now.

-[CHEERS]
-Winner 10! 10 as hard as they come.

That is my big brother,
who I'm going to be assisting

on some very important business
for the man you work for,

and for whom
I may put in a good word for you

depending on how good you are to me.

-[GIGGLES]
-Whoo-hoo!

You seem blue, Jack.

That old actor I spoke of

passed.

Sorry.

Wrapped like a mummy
in blankets,

drowning in his own fluids.

Perhaps, Al, given
the sleigh ride which ensues,

the best connection to Leviathan

may not be by harpoon.

Explain yourself.

I mean the inimical Mr. Hearst

suffering with discomfort at his back,

the wiles of a bullshitter such as oneself

may have use as a feint to occupy him.

How?

Campaign towards relief

protracted, punctuated by

Pentecostal whoops

and manual pushes and prods while

invoking arcane authorities...

The host's unhealthy soul

reliable to sustain his symptoms.

You were good to try a net
on that cocksucker, Jack,

on such a sorry day.

Mr. Hearst!

Are we still in a state of respite?

The odd twinge, Mr. Langrishe,
but overall much improved.

A winning skirmish

in a long campaign!

Mr. Swearengen.

Mr. Hearst.

Old friends!

-[LAUGHS]
-[CHUCKLES]

Don't imbibe overmuch
the evening chill.

Waiting for something.

It appears the theater people's
moving in

was delayed by the illness
of one of their troupe,

who today, I believe, has died.

So they should be moving in
very shortly.

Thank you for telling me...

...without quarrel.

And you acknowledge
your lack of sweetness

on retiring last evening?

I do,

being uneasy about
my letter's publication.

And Mr. Hearst's reaction.

-[SIGHS]
-[HOOF BEATS APPROACHING]

Perhaps tonight will be twice as sweet.

[WHINNYING]

Sweet mother of Jesus.

Hiyah!

Take them amateurs off
the fucking sugar tit.

Mr. Hearst brought the pros to town.

Leviathan fucking smiles.

MAN: This black train is coming.
It's coming too.

♪ The little black train is coming ♪

♪ Get all your business right ♪

♪ God spoke to Hezekiah ♪

♪ In a message from on high ♪

♪ You better set your house in order ♪

♪ For thou must surely die ♪

♪ The little black train is coming ♪

♪ Get all your business right ♪

♪ You better set your house in order ♪

♪ For that train may be here tonight ♪

♪ Oh, that little black train
and its engine ♪

♪ With one little baggage car ♪

♪ Has all your deeds
and your wicked thoughts ♪

♪ For to meet you
at the judgment bar ♪

♪ The little black train is coming ♪

♪ For that train may be here tonight. ♪