Descendants Of Smith Lyrics by Roy Harper
Clean Lyric
Paragraph Lyric
He woke up in a crashing din
Half in a dream he grabbed his sword
They smashed the door down and rushed in
"What the Hell" was his last word
He staggered out into the snow
And left a stain that didn't go
Until it was found in four million and three
By descendants of Smith
His snuff box and his shoulder pack
Were sold in 'Antiquarian'
Someone else's bric-a-brac
A taste of times long since bygone
The stain was sinking in a vice
Two feet deep in solid ice
Until it was found in four million and three
By descendants of Smith
His blood was put in their machine
Which reproduced him at great speed
Engineered a female gene
And put them in a room to breed
With esperanto anecdotes
Resuscitated microdots
The descendant of Smith
Ran a colony of centaurs
Roamed a zoo with mastodon
And never knew of his mentors
He woke up in a crashing din  Half in a dream he grabbed his sword  They smashed the door down and rushed in  "What the Hell" was his last word  He staggered out into the snow  And left a stain that didn't go  Until it was found in four million and three  By descendants of Smith  His snuff box and his shoulder pack  Were sold in 'Antiquarian'  Someone else's bric-a-brac  A taste of times long since bygone  The stain was sinking in a vice  Two feet deep in solid ice  Until it was found in four million and three  By descendants of Smith  His blood was put in their machine  Which reproduced him at great speed  Engineered a female gene  And put them in a room to breed  With esperanto anecdotes  Resuscitated microdots  The descendant of Smith  Ran a colony of centaurs  Roamed a zoo with mastodon  And never knew of his mentors