Death to the Northern Man

Death to the man more Northern than I am The tropics will own this table Peace-loving means unable Why be glad of that? Let's get rid of this Cut the continent loose Spies like us should just drift Death to the man more Northern than I am The crotchety scud at my table Dogs fill up the stable Where horses were supposed to go Why have that? Let's finish this Kiss the country goodbye Spies like us should just drift My aim is not to bark or bunt In England they call everyone cunt