Who’ll be the thief the piece of meat So the pawn in the game the fodder to blame Do you still have some pride as in excrement lie Are you just rank and file remember to smile Shall I knock you about like cricket bats out If you play the game then you they won’t blame Your self-loathing creeps and into me seeps If I knock you about should I fill you with doubt Shall I mourn your decline with a glass of red wine Should I feel some remorse as you follow your course Should I keep my mouth shut as your throat you cut As you slide down and in excrement drown