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