They're stood at the door,
No one moving an inch;
I feel I've seen them before,
And it concurs, my flinch.
They're the hired heavies,
Men of that loan shark,
The chafing rates he levies,
They leave quite a mark.
They share a wicked grin,
A most ominous shape,
I'm stirred, trembling within,
To make good my escape.
But, I can't seem to recall,
What is his that I owe;
Those letters, really small,
Them, ought I to know?
No one moving an inch;
I feel I've seen them before,
And it concurs, my flinch.
They're the hired heavies,
Men of that loan shark,
The chafing rates he levies,
They leave quite a mark.
They share a wicked grin,
A most ominous shape,
I'm stirred, trembling within,
To make good my escape.
But, I can't seem to recall,
What is his that I owe;
Those letters, really small,
Them, ought I to know?
Comments