In the yellow meadows of Ipswich Town
There lays the body of a dead roach-
Covered in dead leafs and a long grass gown,
Because of which it is difficult to approach.
The roach, they say, a decent life had lived:
He'd done harm to none, none had he hurt.
But one day he had believed
That the meadows were his, and meadows were Earth.
Little did he know that his meadow - that was yellow-
In the face of Earth was just like a star in the Galaxy.
His vision couldn't show all the yellow, all the mellow,
So his belief since birth was rigid, blind, he could not see.
He thought of no God, nor life, aliens or a different creature,
So with his chest forward he seized the day.
While he vaingloriously was showing of his feature,
A big red God, called Tractor, washed his soul away.
The Tractor Boys, people from Ipswich,
Every year organize a feast,
To remember one's beliefs, exactly the ones which,
Turned a pristine soul into a naive beast.