Lyrics

The famine's hard, the city's sieged And we've forgotten who we need I ate my son and I regret But you don't know how desperate Oh the king, he rides the wall When I cried his clothes he tore Jahoram, he blamed the Lord We saw potato sack underwear "To kill Elisha and have his head" Is what that wicked king had said Elisha trusted, despite the mail And prophesied a flour sale Four lepers, empty camp And they weren't coming back Retreated from the music Of an army soundtrack And then we plundered deserted tents I sold my flour for a pence