The Severed Head
Can you see the bag I’m carrying with me
It has a severed head inside and it’s so heavy
I’m looking for a place to bury it to bury it
Where no-one will ever find it, they’ll never find it
I’ll dig a hole in the soil the soil
Oh the toil the toil
I’ll dig a hole in the soil the soil
Oh the toil the toil
But I can never dig a hole far enough down
I fear the shallow grave will one day be found
Someone will come along and dig it up again
And I will have to face the severed head my old friend
So I will make a fire a fire
Oh I tire I tire
I will make a fire a fire
Oh I tire I tire
In the field where I stand
Make a fire with my hands
It will leave a mark on the land
Like a bruise on the face of a woman