Bravely bold Sir Justin Rode forth from Ottawa. He was not afraid to die, Oh brave Sir Justin. He was not at all afraid To be killed in nasty ways. Brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Justin. He was not in the least bit scared To be mashed into a pulp. Or to have his eyes gouged out, And his elbows broken. To have his kneecaps split And his body burned away, And his limbs all hacked and mangled Brave Sir Justin. His head smashed in And his heart cut out And his liver removed And his bowls unplugged And his nostrils raped And his bottom burnt off And his penis -- "That's, that's enough music for now lads, there's dirty work afoot." Brave Sir Justin ran away. ("No!") Bravely ran away away. ("I didn't!") When danger reared its ugly head, He bravely turned his tail and fled. ("I never!") Yes, brave Sir Justin turned about And gallantly he chickened out. ("You're lying!") Swiftly taking to his feet, He beat a very brave retreat. Bravest of the brave, Sir Justin!