That was a strange bush we saw that day
In a field on the road to Termonfeckin.
The leaves played in the breeze
And pretended to be Chinese dragons.

That was a strange sky we saw that day
In a field on the road to Termonfeckin.
The sun laughed through stony clouds
And pretended to be an orange coin.

They were strange people we saw that day
In a field on the road to Termonfeckin.
Pig farmers in suits with clarinets
Playing ragtime jazz to a horse and cart.

They were strange mushrooms we had that day
In a field on the road to Termonfeckin.

You wouldn’t put cows in a field like that.