Fireman

When fire sits on top of the head
Smoke can hardly enter the nostrils
Feet walking on coals
And fire bugs bite

The fireman loves
He puts on the axe in hand
Better than class rings
Even other rings

Fires burn when they do a job
How the man can burn without
Restriction can burn a man about
Head to toe

The soul is made pure by fire
Man loves to burn
It is even his desire
Afterwards he must
Needs be tended to

If not
The fire has yet a job to do
To burn a man through and through
If so

Hold him dear
In the fire he bore many tears
In this fashion
He lives all his years

What is fire?
It's much like Our Father
Or yet
He be the fireman
And we on fire