Quite some time ago when I was younger Maybe eight or nine A friend of mine had nearly met his Death before his time On a day out with his family now Walking and having fun A farmer saw his head behind a wall And reached for his gun He was paranoid for foxes had been Chewing up his stock And now he prayed for a scapegoat To behead upon the block Now I know that's wrong in the first place But it's not the point of the song And on this pretty 'culiar day The farmer got it wrong Sometimes I think That my mind's on the blink Then I look back to this story I see I do not need a shrink You see my friend had a full head of hair The colour of ginger red Now in the distance the farmer looked With a gun aimed at his head He put two plus two together thinking Red would equal fox As he squeezed the trigger I believe That he was totally off his box Well my friend was rushed to hospital In an ambulance of grief And his father had a heart attack In the shock of disbelief Sometimes I think That my mind's on the blink Then I look back to this story I see I do not need a shrink Sometimes I think That my mind's on the blink Then I look back to this story I think I do not need a shrink Now there's a lesson in this story Although it reached a happy end That just coz he's got red hair Doesn't mean that he's a fox No, just coz he's got red hair Doesn't mean that he's a fox Waah!