There is a restaurant over yonder On top of that lonely old hill. It is owned by a ragged vagabond Who the System could not kill. The moment he could wander He left his employer's estate He wandered up the pathway He wandered out the gate. The first time the system attacked him, He was standing by a tree. The System cut that tree down And nearly squashed him like a flea. Then he was minding his own business Right by a railroad track. The System saw him sitting there And, without warning, launched a sneak attack. But his reflexes were like lightning Honed from years of being free. So he turned that attack back at them And the System let him be. But the System it remembered It knew how to hold a grudge And when that man opened his restaurant, The system hired a judge. The judge he came a'calling But the vagabond knew the score. He won that judge with pie and wine And showed the System the open door. Now the vagabond is older He lies awake at night He sleeps with one eye open Waiting for the System to strike. So take a lesson from the vagabond If you want to be truly free The System will try to own you, It will never let you be. And yet he lived his life The way that he saw fit. When the System came a'calling. He never gave way to it.