Pigs

This pig, that pig,
i could swear their all the same.
Run a mock with the swell,
chew on fat and marrow.
Their bringing us down,
'coz they've been around they think they run this town.
Viva la revolution,
cut your hamstrings loosen, run.
Father rushes up to the sizzleing smoke,
pickles the hearts that make us choke,
squeal pig squeal,
squeal pig squeal,
squeal pig squeal ah...