Monday, 13 August 2007

Legal Murder

He was a harmless young man from brazil
Left his flat in scotia tulse hill
He had no idea not a thought nor a fear
As he walked to the bus down the hill
He was quite unaware
Who followed him there plain clothes cops
Who were armed to the teeth
His thoughts were maybe
Of his poor family
To whom he sent money each week
As he got off at his stop
Close behind came a cop
With his mates armed and keen for the kill
He paused for a while
At the stockwell turnstile
Pushed through his ticket until
He paused once again
So he could obtain his free paper
To read so it seems
He must have looked vicious
Caus' the police were suspicious
Of his white skin denim jacket and jeans
As he got to the concourse
He ran caus’of course
The train had come onto the scene
He sat down in haste
And was grabbed round the waist
Whilst one hero’s aim
Put seven shots through his brain
Became even bolder
Put one more through his shoulder
In case one spark of life should remain
The moral of this story
In truth is quite plain
If you want to travel in the tube
And come out alive again
Then when plain clothes coppers
Come behind you don’t run off
Turn around and give them all
A burst with your Kalashnikof.

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