[Verse 1]
Clay is the word and clay is the flesh
When the potato gatherers like mechanised scare crows move along the side fall of the hill
Clay is the word and clay is the flesh
When the mushroom gatherers like majestic scare crows skip along the side fall of the hill

Watch 'em, watch ’em, watch 'em
That man on the hill
Whose spirit is a wet sack flapping about the knees of time