Jack went out one stormy day

To see where his feet would go

They took him from his sleeping town

Across land both high and low

They took him through the velvet streets

Where men walked on their toes

And down the slopes

Where bottled hell

And blind men lie in rows

Jack walked through the treacle swamps

And crossed the salt dry plains

He passed he house where tall, thin dogs

Pulled on their iron chains

He heard the songs of seed germ girls

Who warmed the frozen fields

And as Jack walked

He felt the corn

Push up his tired heels

He saw the heathens' heather hills

He watched a boiling sea

He met a man with wooden hands

Carved from an old fruit tree

The old man said he dreamt at night

Of blossom roots and knives

And that night when

Jack went to sleep

He dreamt of damson pies

Jack walked out one stormy day

To see where his feet would go

They took him north, they took him east

But never took him home