paul shapera - the gangster lyrics
the gangster lyrics
alex:
under pale, waning moons
fog rolls in, the stench of booze
cigars, cards, opium and s+x still linger on
desperate men scurry home
to madly scrub and rinse their clothes
but my friends, the crimson mark does not come off
in the height of the night
acrambling men sweating fright
try to outrun consequences that await
but my friends take my word
disrespect will quick incur
h+llhounds on your heels, the mark of cain
there are all shades of crime
our fingers reach in evеry pie
our syndicate is run by a ruthless rеd haired line
yes, my brother ruled the roust
but he was put down by the mouse
and the ruby pocket handkerchief’s now mine
there is much to be done
there are men who must run
there are sad, sweet songs of pleading to be sung
there’s sangre to be spilt
mother’s wails, caskets filled
a business built on bootleg dolls to run
there’s not much left
i’m sorry oh my darling
but there’s not much left, lord knows here of me
there’s not much left
a mattress on an empty bed
and there’s not much left, oh lord knows, now of me
if it’s bootleg dolls you want
someone you hate? bring them back up
sit around and drink and throw darts in their eye
come around then, we don’t judge
pay on time or your time comes
you’ve desire and we’ve a pipeline of supply
under dark, waning moons
some will run, pray or screw
business my friends, does not run itself
yes, it’s fear rules the nest
be seen weak or lose your head
and you’re the next dear dolly on the shelf
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