Over the Emerald Hill

Over the emerald hill,
We did as tailored will,
Until the gents of steel
Took us to a field.

Field above a red stream,
It full of limbs and steam;
A man in red-white shawl
Came with a red wide saw.
Took away my left arm,
Threw it in the red swarm,
Looked into the red gore,
Property mine no more.

He put me on the block,
This hour of the clock
I laid there quite restrain
Till I felt a quick pain.

I pulled off into black,
Seeing after the whack:
Glad of the little pain
Quite proud of the restrain.