Lyrics:
And the spirit of John moved upon
The face of the waters
And John said "Let there be
Light" and there was light
And John saw that it was good
Dear
and weep
None of us shall be saved, every man will be a slave
For John Brown's body lies a'mouldring in the grave and there's rumblings down in the caves
tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaire
Tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaire
I said John, John, he's long gone
Gone to Indiana, ain't
millionaire
Tied her to a tree with a skinny millionaire
I said John, John, he's long gone
Gone to Indiana, ain't never coming home
I said John, John, he's
gone for the gallows to hang
Ah, ah
When John Brown walked by on his way to die
Conviction tortured him
He said, "Man is depraved
And there
Motown, gotta crown
Skin brown, wedding gown
Peach tree, guarantee
Be free, gotta see
My next inspiration
I make time for conversation
She watch me like
the world go by and my thought connect
I think about the time past and the time to come
Reminisce on Bed-Stuy when I was spry and young
I used to try
the Wizard of Oz.
And I know they've got John Brown in the ground,
Yet I know his story's not fully text-book bound.
And I know his body's a molderin'
The Cast (in order of appearance [roughly]):
KING ARTHUR : Graham Chapman
PATSY : Terry Gilliam
GUARD #1 : Michael Palin
GUARD #2 : John Cleese
John brown
We a love me
Long time
Me a have
No frown
Promise me I take
Me a man
No drown
Thank you
Me get a gyal
From los angeles
Body build
Alcolu to out by the hills
I got thing for that big body yeah
Got a thing for the-ayeah yeah yeah yeah
Slang so thick I like it slick, bruh
Curve so,
Check spit that dope shit bitch I'm John gotti
Cold body I don't fear nobody
Keep that pole by me
So grimey labels won't sign me
Cause they know
John Roy was a boy I knew
Since he was 3 and I was two
Grew up two little houses down from me
The only bad apples on our family tree
Kinda
stones.
And little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl,
And he's brandy in the glass;
And little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl,
Proved the strongest man
And little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl,
And he's brandy in the glass
And little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl,
Proved the strongest man at last.
That go to show this ass
Kicking ain't gon bother nigga
Cause it's right back where
You started nigga
Being a son of a Harlem nigga
Now you was made by
two bad apples
On our family tree
Kind of ripened and rotted
In our puberty
Two kindred spirits bound by destiny
Well now I was smart
But I lacked
John Roy was a boy I knew
Since he was 3 and I was 2
Grew up 2 little houses down from me
The only bad apples on our family tree
Kinda ripened
stones.
And little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl,
And he's brandy in the glass;
And little Sir John and the nut-brown bowl,
Proved the strongest man
life on a dirty brown piece of Berber carpet.
Dick's dentures on the ground chattering.
His toupee being carried off by the squirrels
from a tree
He's got his hungry eye on me
In my garden I'm as free
As that feathered thief up there
Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
from a tree
He's got his hungry eye on me
In my garden I'm as free
As that feathered thief up there
Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
Thank you same to you ha, ha happy Christmas
Christmas, John, and I see you strolling in
Ascot Garden with your wife, Yoko, but well
Do you
Have any
the Sheriff, by a couple of feet
The Sheriff killed him on the spot
John Brown's body is, up on Boot Hill
He's buried down, six feet
On his tombstone, says
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