Quite some time ago when I was younger 
Maybe eight or nine 
A friend of mine had nearly met his 
Death before his time 

On a day out with his family now 
Walking and having fun 
A farmer saw his head behind a wall 
And reached for his gun 

He was paranoid for foxes had been 
Chewing up his stock 
And now he prayed for a scapegoat 
To behead upon the block 

Now I know that's wrong in the first place 
But it's not the point of the song 
And on this pretty 'culiar day 
The farmer got it wrong 

Sometimes I think 
That my mind's on the blink 
Then I look back to this story 
I see I do not need a shrink 

You see my friend had a full head of hair 
The colour of ginger red 
Now in the distance the farmer looked 
With a gun aimed at his head 

He put two plus two together thinking 
Red would equal fox 
As he squeezed the trigger I believe 
That he was totally off his box 

Well my friend was rushed to hospital 
In an ambulance of grief 
And his father had a heart attack 
In the shock of disbelief 

Sometimes I think 
That my mind's on the blink 
Then I look back to this story 
I see I do not need a shrink 

Sometimes I think 
That my mind's on the blink 
Then I look back to this story 
I think I do not need a shrink 

Now there's a lesson in this story 
Although it reached a happy end 
That just coz he's got red hair 
Doesn't mean that he's a fox 
No, just coz he's got red hair 
Doesn't mean that he's a fox 

Waah!
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