Spring light in a hazy May 

and a man with a gun at the door 

Someone's crawling on the roof above --- 

  all the media here for the show 

I've been waiting for our friends to come 

Like spiders down ropes to free-fall 

A thirty round clip for a visiting card --- 

  admit one to the embassy ball 



Caught in the crossfire on Princes Gate Avenue 

In go the windows and out go the lights 

Call me a doctor. Fetch me a policeman 

I'm down on the floor in one hell of a fight 



I'm just a soul with an innocent face --- 

  a regular boy dressed in blue 

  conducting myself in a proper way 

  as befitting the job that I do 

They came down on me like a ton of bricks 

Swept off my feet, knocked about 

There's nothing for it but to sit and wait 

  for the hard men to get me out 



Calm reason floats from the street below 

  and the slow fuse burns through the night 

Everyone's tried to talk it through 

  but they can't seem to get the deal right 

Somewhere there are Brownings in a two-hand hold --- 

  cocked and locked, one up the spout 

There's nothing for it but to sit and wait 

  for the hard men to get me out