| No shit, Sherlock
|
| The gun is loaded + primed
|
| No shit, Sherlock
|
| I’ve had enough of your lies
|
| I spent enough time
|
| Without making a blunder
|
| And I’ll do it again 'till she dies
|
| No shit, Sherlock
|
| It’s all going off in his hands
|
| A deadly assassin, yeah
|
| What will his money buy now?
|
| Don’t call me Mark Chapman
|
| 'Cause they deserve each other
|
| And I’ll do it again 'till she dies
|
| (Spoken)
|
| All night Barry Manilow playing loud over the speaker system
|
| Just trying to drive the fucker out
|
| A waste of time — a man committed a mind resolved
|
| All night Barry Manilow — Mandy… Copa Cobana
|
| Just trying to drive the fucker out…
|
| And as the sun does rise and Will Every morning, so this morning does this man
|
| Know that he must leave this festered Ratmosphere
|
| He does not look back a the 2 bodies, no
|
| There is grace where before there was only malignant anger
|
| And there is dignity in his New Up-right Stride…
|
| And with longing in his Longitude
|
| And with attitude in his Latitude, the once little man leaves the chrome condo
|
| Carbuncle + faces up to the arresting officer
|
| Does Not Swerve in his arrival though 130 police automatics point directly at h
|
| Is head…
|
| And with a tacky sense of humour
|
| But with a True sense of the Moment, says;
|
| «Don't call me Mark Chapman… 'cause they deserve each other
|
| Don’t call me Sirhan Sirhan… 'cause they ain’t Duran Duran
|
| And I’ll do it again 'till she dies |