12 Rounds Mr. Johnson Take A Bow
Mr. Johnson take a bow Most humble and sedate Tired and weary lost were we The things that make you great Cold and beaten and beyond And shot right through with hate Smiled and lit our broken souls These things that make you great And old were we And born unfree And ripped at all the seams And fraught with all That we had learnt The knight of all our dreams Oooh Mr. Johnson one last bow And then leave us to fate Saved our bones and sucked our toes The things that make you great The things that make you great These things that make you great
