Boy with no name, he was only 18
Never lughed to much
Hated the monarchy
Yes he hated the queen
Real antisocial and he acted real mean
Was he in a dream?
Dowsing her lights was in
In his dreams
So full of hate and full of fury
To tell you a story
You would say
He was a one man jury
Catalogue of anger posted through your door
Your door, your door, your door
A chance would come to even the score
Stole a gun and he stole a car
Oh boy, oh boy
With a pretty doll he would go far
Down to london where the bright lights are
Lights are, lights are, lights are
And i say
The mission his decision
He took out the gun
On that fateful day
The winds blew cold , the sky turned grey
He pointed the gun
And then he pulled the trigger
The message that he would now deliver
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