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