Hopelessly passing your time in the grassland away Only dimly aware of a certain unease in the air You better watch out There may be dogs about I've looked over Jordan, and I have seen Things are not what they seem What do you get for pretending the danger's not real Meek and obedient you follow the leader Down well trodden corridors into the valley of steel What a surprise The look of terminal shock in your eyes Now things are really what they seem No, this is no bad dream The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want He makes me down to lie Through pastures green He leadeth me the silent waters by With bright knives he releaseth my soul He maketh me to hang on hooks in high places He converteth me to lamb cutlets For lo, He hath great power, and great hunger When cometh the day we lowly ones Through quiet reflection, and great dedication Master the art of karate Lo, we shall rise up And then we'll make the bugger's eyes water Bleating and babbling we fell on his neck with a scream Wave upon wave of demented avengers March cheerfully out of obscurity into the dream Have you heard the news? The dogs are dead You better stay home And do as you're told Get out of the road if you want to grow old