Oh if I met the piper I'd cut off his hands
Cuz the songs that he played led the beggars to land
Where the fire burns fast
And the world's frozen cold
I meet my maker before I get old
Oh so fee fi fo fum
I spill the blood of an Englishman
And on the seventh day
As the omens rose east
I met my maker
And I gave him a piece of my mind
Oh so few were his words
His hands were a mess
The piper cried out all his evil way
He rose to his feet
To face his strife
The piper would have to pay more for his lies
Oh so fee fi fo fum
I spilled the blood of an Englishman
And on the seventh day
As the omens rose east
I met my maker
And I gave him a piece of my mind