Harmlessly 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 trotten corridors, into the valley of steel
What a surprise!
A 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.