Come Blow Your Horn

Little boy blue,

Come blow your horn,

Tell us how wonderfully

Everything’s gone.

There’s sheep in the meadow,

There’s cows in the corn.

Our death toll’s the highest

The problem’s not gone.

There’s chlorine in chickens

There’s hormones in beef

But where is the boy

Who looks after the sheep?

Where is the man

Who will make Britain ‘Great’

He’s under a haystack

fast asleep.

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