When the nightmares start snoopin’ around
And nobody is making a sound
‘Cept for thieves with tarred sleeves

And the scratching of keys
Formed from paperclips somebody found
Must they steal our computers
To make their veins useless
Or sniff out dog-ends from the ground?
Either way I’ll be asleep safe and sound.

Some time comparisons may be drawn
Between young gunz and big London yawnz
They’re all stealing the music,
Intending to use it
To fund habits recently borne
It’s not hard to compute then;
I think we should shoot them
And bury their heads in the lawn
Fuck ‘em all!