Who'll build a box for Black Paul?
Ah'm enquirin on behalf of his soul
Ah'd be beholdin to
ya all
For a lil information, yes some kinda information
Just who'll dig the hole?
When
ya done ransackin his room
grabbin anything that shines,
throw the scrap down on the
street
Like all his books and his notes.
All the junk that he wrote
the whole fucken lot
right up in smoke
Aint there nuthin sacred anymore
Someone will build a box for Black
Paul?
And there shootin off his guns
and there shootin off their mouths
saying 'Fuck
with us ... and die!'
(Let's see that rat of fear go scuttle in their skulls)
'Cover that
eye! Cover that frozen eye!'
Black-puppet, in a heap up against the
stoning-wall
Blud-puppet, go to sleep, ma-ma won't scold ya anymore
Armies of ants, wade up
the lil red streams
they're headin for the mother-pool
O lord, it's cruel, O man it's
hot!
And some of them ants they yes ilot to the spot
Who threw the first stone at Black
Paul?
'Don't ack us', say the critics and the hacks
The pen-pushers and the quacks
'We
jes cum to git dah facks!'
'We jes cum to git dah facks!'
Hey,hey,hey,hey...
Here is the
hammer, that build the scaffold,
and built the box...
Here is the shovel, that dug the
hole,
in this ground of rocks...
And here is the pile of stones!
and for each one
planted, God only knows,
a blud-rose grown...
These are the true Demon-Flowers!
These
are the true Demon-Flowers!
Stand back everyone! Blud-black everyone!
Who'll build a box for
Black Paul?
Who'll carry it up the hill?
Not I', said the widow, adjusting his veil
'Ah
will not drive the nail
Or cart his puppet-
