Brother Heinrich's Christmas: No. 3, Sigismund Is Dismissed

But hark, what do I hear in the distance?

We want the dragon
Smack him, do him, drop his head off
We want the dragon
Smack him, spike him, cut his throat
We got Saint George
We got Saint George and his horse and sword and buttercoat
When Saint George is done with him, he won't be worth a groat
We want the dragon
He's been looting, raping, pillaging
We want the dragon
He's been scorching all the crops
Saint George'll smite the perisher
The awful, scaly ravisher
Saint George'll swoosh his great big sword
And thump him 'round the chops

Oh, how uncouth, how vulgar
How unutterably awful
And it doesn't even rhyme
But who is this?

Saint George at your service
The hour of reckoning has come, sir
Never more shall you wreak your terror
Upon these poor, simple folk
What weapons do you choose?

Weapons, dear fellow? None, dear boy
Can't fight, won't fight
Anyway, why must I be defeated?

Because it's in the story