Boy with no name, he was only 18 Never lughed to much Hated the monarchy Yes he hated the queen Real antisocial and he acted real mean Was he in a dream? Dowsing her lights was in In his dreams
So full of hate and full of fury To tell you a story You would say He was a one man jury Catalogue of anger posted through your door Your door, your door, your door A chance would come to even the score
Stole a gun and he stole a car Oh boy, oh boy With a pretty doll he would go far Down to london where the bright lights are Lights are, lights are, lights are And i say The mission his decision
He took out the gun On that fateful day The winds blew cold , the sky turned grey He pointed the gun And then he pulled the trigger The message that he would now deliverTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
