Wrath

That wicked hawk of debt

Screwed up her brow and craned her neck
Looking round the neighbourhood for her prey
She looked up, she swooped down
Made up her mind to stick around
This place could take a year and a day

And when that place ain't so naive
She'll go worry and deceive
Look at all the things they dearly hold
And in poverty's pure trap
She adores the crunch and snap
Just mining public tragedy for personal gold

She bad omen, she bad song
Perching roof top way too long
She's a bird that likes to kill
But would never sing to thrill
A bird like that would never really sing
She's just money for old rope

From the desperate and the broke
Selling back that rope to those about to swing
Selling back that rope to those about to swing

So when IRA has her way
Be it night or be it day
Be it end of year or sometime way beyond
Be it wrath, be it wrath
Be it soak in acid bath
You always knew that witch would wave her wicked wand

So the peddlers and the pushers
The rat and cockroach crushers
Had always held each other in quiet respect
But now if the eighth
Was suspected or could be traced
You'd have that rat or roach upon your neck

She bad omen. she bad song
Perching roof top way too long
The eighth had changed the map
To suit the roach and suit the rat
So no one who was human could relax

'Til half that broken street
Would scurry by on padded feet
And the other half would hide between the cracks
And the other half would hide between the cracks