I am the fox, and I'll tell you true
What your hounds do think of me, and I of you
When lavish scraps fall no longer from your knee
He will slip his rope, and we will brothers be
I am the fox, and I'll tell you true
What your hounds do think of me, and I of you
When lavish scraps fall no longer from your knee
He will slip his rope, and we will brothers be
You masters all, in fine sheets at night
Dreaming of your dinners rich and pennies bright
When you will wake, raging naked to the air
You will find your coffers stripped and cupboards bare
For I am the fox, and I'll tell you true
What your hounds do think of me, and I of you
When lavish scraps fall no longer from your knee
He will slip his rope, and we will brothers be
Then comes a day when the trumpets sound,
And the hunter hears no howl from fox or hound
Then he who owns every army in the land
Will have to go with bowl begging in his hand
For I am the fox, and I'll tell you true
What your hounds do think of me, and I of you
When lavish scraps fall no longer from your knee
He will slip his rope, and we will brothers be
On yonder vale, where the snow lies bare
Winter winds will hide our scent from hart and hare
When fox and hound bound no more by slavery
Will bare their fangs and bite the hand of poverty
For I am the fox, and I'll tell you true
What your hounds do think of me, and I of you
When lavish scraps fall no longer from your knee
He will slip his rope, and we will brothers be
I am the fox, and I'll tell you true
What your hounds do think of me, and I of you
When lavish scraps fall no longer from your knee
He will slip his rope, and we will brothers be
He will slip his rope, and we will brothers be