The Final Lot

He's going under
Beneath this stone in the fading light
Lies the lonely soul of a Joseph Wright
Few hearts knew his kindness warm
Few heads grew with a knowledge more
Informed

He's going under
With a gracious voice and a humour
Broad
He pleased both peasant, squire and a
Lord
A length his breath had a fortune steered
We called Joe's life the finest lot in
Years

He's going under
He's going under
Poor Joe's life it was the finest lot in
Years

The hammer went down on his soul that
Night
His breath was cold but he suffered no
Fight
He was the last one sold on a priceless
Tear
For poor Joe's life it was the finest lot in
Years

He's going under
He's going under
Poor Joe's life it was the finest lot in
Years