| I’m D’Orine the Cow, Tom the Bull’s better half
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| My daughter’s called Daisy, she’s a very nice calf
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| When I’m all finished milking and chewing the cud
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| Mr. Meatface the butcher will be after my blood
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| Cos I’m D’Orine Cow
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| I’m D’Orine the Cow
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| I’m somebody’s quarter-pound hamburger bun
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| And somebody’s trousers now
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| I’m Lofty the Lamb from the heart of the shire
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| My texture’s too coarse for your fashion attire
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| So soon I’ll be bound for the abattoir’s slab
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| Slaughtered and frozen for doner kebab
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| Cos I’m Lofty the Lamb
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| I’m Lofty the Lamb
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| I seem to have gambolled my short life away
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| I’m a sandwich instead of a ram
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| I’m Mary the Chicken, the result of research
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| In the dark with no feathers and wedged on this perch
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| Pieces go missing when chickens collide
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| Oh bury my bones with your Kentucky Fried
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| Cos I’m Mary the Chicken
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| I’m Mary the Chicken
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| You wouldn’t eat me if you knew where I’d been
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| You’d be heart-stricken
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| I’m Jonathon Pig and I’m fearsomely stout
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| From the tip of my tail to the snuff of my snout
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| I’m too fat to move and I’m too young to die
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| So think about me next time you eat a pork-pie
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| Cos I’m Jonathon Pig
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| I’m Jonathon Pig
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| My ears have gone into the sausage machine
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| And so has my thingumajig
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| My thingumajig |