Three blind mice

 You see he plays his part

Like an Eagle in a cage

Never knowing who to call on in his

Times of rage

And she the sun shone on

All through the plotted page

Just a story or a song

Just a triangle of age

How can she compass

The truth is in the Spire

And the Church stands there

As a badger in a choir

Singing to the underground

Of worms, and grubs and flowers

Whose roots have all been eaten

But They still love the sun's powers

Oh she waged a war across the Martian stage

And caterwauled her fairy dust

With the backgammon

And she visited the house

Of the three blind mice

Now none of them could see the world

But they all could tell the future

But the tales they told

Could never be foretold

Except of course by the Butcher

And so he cut off their tails and kept them hanging

So around and around their heads went banging

And they ended up in St Margret's hostel

Then they ended up in Bristol

And they started a band called Three blind mice

Until one was shot with a pistol

It was a harvest mouse with a grenade launcher

And he stayed the night in a cannibal hotel

He rang for room service then wouldn't you tell

Who turned up was the Butcher

He held three cards in his hand

And asked the mouse to take his chance

And so he did and the shot rang out

And the house of cards it fell down flat

With the King of Diamonds and Queen of spades

Head down in the concrete of the lamp shades

That kept on flickering on and off

And the harvester took what he could of the soft

Cheese that melted over the hares, and the dogs

Howled out in the Welsh rarebit valleys

But no Prince could be seen

Only the head of the poor old Queen

That rolled down the hill

Back to Jack and Jill

Who held the Ace of Hearts as bill and fare

For their journey

And broken crown

But who always knew

Were the three blind mice

Oh they ran and they ran

But could not escape

No they saw their future

But still had to meet their fate