Hate wide for dog breeder
In the town of the port
Never seen dog breeder
This is the tale of his replica
Name was J. Temperance
Only two did not hate him
Because peasants fear local indifference
Pet shop and the vet, Cameron
One night vet is called out
From his overpaid leisure
To Temperance household, their limit ran out
And phoned his wife in terror
The next bit is hard to relate
(There are no read-outs to this part of the track.)
The new born thing hard to describe
Like a rat that's been trapped inside
A warehouse face, near a city tide
Brown sockets, purple eyes
A bed with rubbish from disposal barges
Brown uncovered no changeling
As the birth was witnessed
Only one person could do this:
Yes, it's Cameron
And the thing was in the
Impression of J. Temperance
This hideous replica