Azimuth Split The Duck He Stared
The duck, he stared....All beadie-eye, and feather-weared
He glared at my hair, I'd say if I dared
His ma was a whore and her ass she bared
Could he see....
The hatred I felt for his family?
For long ago when we were three
His gran robbed my grandad of 60p
Grandad died...
From four broken hearts and a suicide
His pain and shame he could never hide
His wounds were salted and cauterized
I took a pane....
Of mirrored-glass from my weather-vane
Reflecting his stare back into his brain
Which drove the little cunt quite insane
So hear my words
Don't take any shit from those floating birds
Those watertight, hissing and spitting turds
And next time you see one, shout
'Vous ete merde!'