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Miss Jones
Miss Jones knows what the dogs like
And the dogs know what they like about her
In the fields of grass where the young boys run away from,
away from, away from...
Hey, hey Miss Jones, when you get down there will you let us know?
Father John is worried
Hey, hey Miss Jones, when you get down there will you let us know?
Flames of war are burning
The hills wish they were mountains
And the weeds, to be trees
In the years to come, we all run away from,
away from, away from...
Hey, hey Miss Jones, when you get down there will you let us know?
Father John is worried
Hey, hey Miss Jones, when you get down there will you let us know?
Flames of war are burning
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