| Kids are playing gangster wars | 
| They don’t believe in Santa Claus | 
| The baseball bats are soft of course | 
| The blood is just tomato sauce | 
| As icebergs go, it’s just the tip | 
| The start of the apprenticeship | 
| A short, sharp Glasgow, kiss me quick | 
| Karate chop and Kung fu kick | 
| And in the wings the grannies wait | 
| Doing things that grannies hate | 
| Queuing to accumulate | 
| A pittance from the welfare state | 
| Then back home on a forty four | 
| Put the chain on, lock the door | 
| Cross another five bar gate | 
| Sit and wait | 
| Don’t open the door don’t talk to strangers | 
| You’ve not met before | 
| Your guardian angel will watch over you | 
| If your guardian angel has got nothing to do | 
| In space no one can hear you scream | 
| Because no one’s really listening | 
| Saint Peter’s got his gates to clean | 
| And God’s too busy saving queens | 
| To ever get down off the fence | 
| And give the meek their inheritance | 
| So it’s only common sense | 
| To get yourself some self-defense | 
| Don’t open the door don’t talk to strangers | 
| You’ve not met before | 
| Your guardian angel will watch over you | 
| If your guardian angel has got nothing to do | 
| Don’t open the door don’t talk to strangers | 
| You’ve not met before | 
| Your guardian angel will watch over you | 
| If your guardian angel has got nothing to do | 
| And so we leave this nursery rhyme | 
| This grizzly gruesome pantomime | 
| From the cradle to a life of crime and back again | 
| And now it’s time to say goodbye |