She was the parson's daughter
With her red and rosy cheeks
She went to church on Sunday
And sang the anthem sweet
The parson was a misery
So scraggy and so thin
Look here, you motherfuckers
If you lead a life of sin
And there's fire down below
He took his text from Malachi
And pulled a weary face
Well, I fucked off for Africa
And there, I feel from grace
'Cause there's fire down below
The parson's little daughter
Was as sweet as sugar-candy
I said to her, "us sailors
Would make lovers neat and handy"
'Cause there's fire down below
She says to me, "you sailors
Are a bunch of fucking liars
And all of you are bound to hell
To feed the fucking fires"
'Cause there's fire down below"
Well, there's fire down below, my lad
So we must do what we oughta
'Cause the fire is not half as hot
As the parson's little daughter
And there's fire down below
Yes, there's fire
(fire)
Down
(down)
Below
(below)
Yes, there's fire
(fire)
Down
(down)
Below
(below)
Yes, there's fire
(fire)
Down
(down)
Below
(below)
Writer(s): Traditional, Keith Stent, Myrna Stent
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