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And the sweet song of the bell
It's the butcher's curtain call again
Does he sleep at night?
The hood protects his face from prying eyes
And the swinging man
Looks pretty good to me
I see he's pissed himself
But now he'll leave us be
I thought I heard a distant bark (Fanny!)
And the mothers, they cried in vain again
A man stood sick as hell
The crowd didn't know his name at all
But the chopping block
Looks pretty good to me
And the rolling head
Rolls but feels no pain
And the sweet song of the bell
It's the butcher's curtain call again
Does he sleep at night?
The hood protects his face from prying eyes
And the swinging man
Looks pretty good to me
I see he's pissed himself
But now he'll leave us be
Written by: John Peter Dwyer, Surena Brigid Dawson

