John Lee, your headache's growing, the cold wind's blowing but the sea's without a ripple
John Lee, your forehead's damp, your muscles cramp and the sea can't use a cripple

John Lee, you're turning around your plate again
Oh, John Lee
John Lee, you're turning around your plate again
Oh, John Lee

John Lee's been made a freeman, his heart's a seaman but his flesh won't make a sailor
Working there in a big hotel, waiting for the bell that's ringing for his labor

John Lee, you're turning around your plate again
Oh, John Lee
John Lee, you're turning around your plate again
Oh, John Lee

John Lee, your chances are good, you better touch wood, we think things must get better
John Lee, you've a friend so true, she wants to help you, Miss Keyes has sent a letter

John Lee, you're turning around your plate again
Oh, John Lee
John Lee, you're turning around your plate again
Oh, John Lee

"Dear John, come and work the Glen, just write me when and I'll send someone to meet you"
John's gone to where he started from, he's not worked long, just beginning to belong
"It hasn't been a very good day, the missus wants to halve my pay
Close the door and douse the light, it's quiet at night when she's tucked in tight
Sometimes I feel, when they're all in bed, it's almost like the whole world's dead
So I lay me down to sleep, I pray thee Lord my soul to keep"

John Lee, you're turning around your plate again
Oh, John Lee
John Lee, you're turning around your plate again
Oh, John Lee

John Lee, you're turning around your plate again
Oh, John Lee
John Lee, you're turning around your plate again
Oh, John Lee

The customary quiet of Babbacombe, a residential suburb of Torquay, was greatly disturbed early on Saturday morning and the peaceful inhabitants roused to a state of intense alarm and terror by one of the most frightful tragedies that human devilment could plan or human fiend could perpetrate. The name of the victim was Miss Emma Anne Whitehead Keyes, an elderly lady of some sixty-eight years. The name of her home, the scene of her tragedy, was 'The Glen'. 
She was found early in the morning, lying on her dining room floor. Her throat had been horribly cut and there were three wounds on her head. It was evident that her murderer had also attempted to burn the corpse.