Lyrics John Wesley Harding

John Wesley Harding

Wooden Overcoat

There's a man in a pitch black hat

And his underwear's made of mud

He jumps like a pouncing cat

And he lands with a sickening thud

His head is surrounded by ravens

The plague has progressed to his heart

Best that you meet him clean shaven

Cos his razor is not kept sharp

And he's wearing a wooden overcoat

He's known in the underworld

He lives in the undergrowth

And he's knowingly undersold

Though he's never been under oath

His devil's are arrayed in armies

And his angels will fix the fight

He'll shape you like origami

And throw you away at night

And he's wearing a wooden overcoat

His house is a damp museum

And all of his servants worms

Mating in mausoleums

Licking the floor for germs

And his cabinet's full of wonders

There's specimens everywhere

He's negative six feet under

And has to submerge for air

And he's wearing a wooden overcoat

Don't ever act too humble

Don't eat away thy heart

He's tearing apart each dungeon

His tail's an evil dart

And he's wearing a wooden overcoat