Were talkin about a thick necked man in the city
Build a pub a blood and sweat
Swears by God hell stand by justice
He aint stood by justice yet
He gets them drunk and gets their money
They cash their welfare checks for stout
Now he throws them into the street
Hes sucked you in, hell spit you out
This money-minded S.O.B.
Will not a penny lend
And all I can do is pray to God
Hell suffer in the end
Were talkin bout thick-necked man in a three-piece
Killing from his office desk
The many places he has been
And many more hell visit yet
Without his mommys pride & kisses
Without his countrys confidence
Without the dying mans permission
Without no guilt or consequence
This bloody-minded S.O.B.
Has not a wound to mend...
Now were talkin bout a thick-necked man in a fist fight
Losing lots of blood
Its not his night, his boss is uptight
His face and name are covered in mud
He watches T.V., all star wrestling
Slams a six of ale
Hits his wife, wrecks the car
And spends the long dark night in jail
Well the Preacher man, he comes and asks him
Does he know the mess hes in?
He says hell turn to Jesus if hell
Bail him out and buy him gin
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