It's the year of the ox
Dress me up and try to guess my weight
Eight hundred people gathered at a fair
In the machine age
That's the wisdom of the crowds
The more the merrier
Ignore the farmer and his pitchfork
Walk through the heather
I put it into verse
Put it in an envelope
I put it in a postbox
Someone puts it in your house
And that house is in a town
That town ain't far from here
But it doesn't feel very near
And that town is in a state
And that state is in a country
And that country's in a bad state
There's a failure atmosphere about the place
And in the end they might thank me
For the garden in my name
'Cause I walk through the heather
It's the year of the ox
Dress me up and try to guess my weight
There's eight hundred people gathered at a fair
In the machine age
That's the wisdom of the crowds
The more the merrier
Ignore the farmer and his pitchfork
Walk through the heather
I put it into verse
Put it in an envelope
I put it in a postbox
Someone puts it in your house
And that house is in a town
That town ain't far from here
But it doesn't feel very near
And that town is in a state
And that state is in a country
And that country's in a bad state
There's a failure atmosphere about the place
And in the end they might thank me
For the garden in my name
'Cause I walk through the heatherAnd
In the end they might even find me
With a garden in my name
As I walk through the heaven
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB