Who'll build a box for Black Paul?

Ah'm enquirin on behalf of his soul

Ah'd be beholdin to ya all

For a lil information, yes some kinda information

Just who'll dig the hole?

When ya done ransackin his room

grabbin anything that shines,

throw the scrap down on the street

Like all his books and his notes.

All the junk that he wrote

the whole fucken lot right up in smoke

Aint there nuthin sacred anymore

Someone will build a box for Black Paul?

And there shootin off his guns

and there shootin off their mouths

saying 'Fuck with us ... and die!'

(Let's see that rat of fear go scuttle in their skulls)

'Cover that eye! Cover that frozen eye!'

Black-puppet, in a heap up against the stoning-wall

Blud-puppet, go to sleep, ma-ma won't scold ya anymore

Armies of ants, wade up the lil red streams

they're headin for the mother-pool

O lord, it's cruel, O man it's hot!

And some of them ants they yes ilot to the spot

Who threw the first stone at Black Paul?

'Don't ack us', say the critics and the hacks

The pen-pushers and the quacks

'We jes cum to git dah facks!'

'We jes cum to git dah facks!'

Hey,hey,hey,hey...

Here is the hammer, that build the scaffold,

and built the box...

Here is the shovel, that dug the hole,

in this ground of rocks...

And here is the pile of stones!

and for each one planted, God only knows,

a blud-rose grown...

These are the true Demon-Flowers!

These are the true Demon-Flowers!

Stand back everyone! Blud-black everyone!

Who'll build a box for Black Paul?

Who'll carry it up the hill?

Not I', said the widow, adjusting his veil

'Ah will not drive the nail

Or cart his puppet-