Poor soul
 Spit upon that
 Poor soul
 He never knew what hit him
 And it hit him so

 Poor dunce
 He pushed back the pigmen
 The Barbs laughed
 The fool is dead

Poor dunce
He's less than within us
The brains talk
But the will to live is dead
And prayer can't travel so far these days
The talk of your life
Standing so near
To innocent eyes
Poor dunce

Swings [bad word] the tunnels
And claws his way
Is small life so manic
Are these really the days

Poor dunce
Poor dunce

Poor soul
Poor soul
Poor soul