We're talkin' about a thick necked man in the city Build a pub a blood and sweat Swears by God he'll stand by justice He ain't stood by justice yet He gets them drunk and gets their money They cash their welfare checks for stout Now he throws them into the street He's sucked you in, he'll spit you out
This money-minded S.O.B. Will not a penny lend And all I can do is pray to God He'll suffer in the end
We're talkin' 'bout a thick-necked man in three piece Killing from his office desk The many places he has been And many more he'll visit yet Without his mommy's pride & kisses Without his country's confidence Without the dying man's permission Without no guilt or consequence
This bloody-minded S.O. B. Has nor a wound to mend...
Now we're talkin' 'bout a thick-necked man in a fist fight Losing lots of blood It's not his night, his boss is uptight His face and name are covered in mud He watches T.V., all star wrestling Slams a six of ale Hits his wife, wrecks the car And spends the long dark night in jail Well the Preacher man, he comes and asks him Does he know the mess he's is? He says he'll turn to Jesus if he'll Bail him out and buy him gin
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