When last I saw ye brother
you were falling on your face
as one copper then another
We were halfway down the road,
we were halfway going home,
we were strangers in a crowd,
some of them in uniform.
Though none of us were virgins
and few of us were straight,
the constable and sergeant
had your number from the start.
And before the bust was through
and the punchup yet to come,
two gentlemen in blue
declared they’d have your bum.
Send in backup cried the jack
in his jacket radio.
A hostile crowd is at my back
and they bid me let him go.
And all in just a second,
in the space it takes to tell,
they came as they were beckoned
with the funny squad as well.
We were rapidly outnumbered,
oh the shame it is to think,
if we lingered we’d be lumbered
and we’d all be in the clink.
There was filth upon the street
and it took you for a ride.
You were just their kind of meat,
they were never on your side.
You were buggered from the off,
you were always on their books.
They never liked your stuff
nor cared much for your looks.
So they beat you black and blue
when the brown stuff hit the fan.
You were falling off the waggon
when they threw you in the van.