It's the year of the ox
Dress me up and try to guess my weight
800 people gathered at a fair
In the machine age
That's the wisdom of the crowds
The more the merrier
Ignore the farmer and his pitchfork
Walk through the heather
I put it into verse
Put it in an envelope
I put it in a postbox
Someone puts it in your house
And that house is in a town
That town ain't far from here
But it doesn't feel very near
And that town is in a state
And that state is in a country
And that country is in a bad state —
There's a familiar atmosphere about the place
And in the end they might thank me
With a garden in my name
'Cause I walked through the heather
And in the end they might even thank me
With a garden in my name
'Cause I walked through the heather