wrapped in a shroud thus deep
the country doth weep
the wind blow no more
and the sun none much as before
the moon has gone to sleep
the stars tucked away their shine
the dark has spilt our wine
on the table whence we did dine
man eat man
we die one by one
the pigs led in the farm
animals in a staff so firm
all are equal they made a fog
yet you grow fat with your kindred hog.
Were it only a farm that did fall
our country cries a dying call
the pigs within arent smart so
but thats what i do,i eat
all my opposition have been beat
no one's willing me to defeat
get up young man
wake up my lazy son
take up from the very old
the mantle wrought in gold
or ignite their bald heads
let them burn till they're dead
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