Poor John

Poor John he looked upon what used to be his legs

Out where so many friends lay scattered, oh John

And with his dying breath he cursed those murdering pigs

Fire, kill the lamb

Fire

Was way back in the day when twenty cost a pound

The flood it took away his mother, oh John

He packed what luck he had and hit the long road south

Fire, kill the lamb

Fire, kill the lamb

Said John let's build a world where each will get the same

Said John you'll never want for nothing, oh no

In time and sure enough the carrot it became

A hook for ripping out his stuffing

Fire, kill the lamb

Fire, kill the lamb

Fire