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