It's a pleasure to burn The flame warms my skin Four hundred fifty one degrees When book paper burns And it burns, and we burn We're firemen long ago I heard they put fires out Now we blaze ideas for you
I grin a fierce grin As flames turn me back Kerosene is spit from this hose The blood it pounds in my head In my head, your books are dead Thoughts in your head, Books can't be read or you'll be dead big brother said thoughts are dead
It's fine work that we do being a fireman has it's rewards Monday burn Melville Wednesday-Wordsworth Friday-Faulkner
Burn books to ash then burn the ash
Don't question what I do Questions are just for fools Houses have always been flame proof Firemen don't put out flames we've always burnt books everyone knows