He was a quiet gentle man
not known to swarm around with friends
these types are usually pampered softies
the thieves and their street gang posse thought
once we put the squeeze on him he will soon scamper
no big deal, we'll sort him out sharpish

so Chris the mother crook said
we are going to put nits in your head
Joanne the mad daughter said
we will bug your head
even the wife warned
they are going to do your head in

then the thugs and hooligans said
we are going to drive you paranoid
now if they were smart they should
have stayed shtum and retain the element of surprise
but hey, to them this was going to be short
sure the man can last a year

what a joke semi-illiterate playing trick or treat
gas-lighting by simpletons and dolts
bulky laden transparent grape-vines
inane crude antics by boring twarts
countless nonsenses by nonsensical dross
so contemptible as to be laughable

what's there to be paranoid about
I've not stolen nothing nor harmed anyone
I can stand up to close scrutiny and I do
the lies smears and slanders are lies smears and slander
I can look anyone dead straight in the eyes
and let the maddened crowd craw and make their dramas
I am still here and my head is not done in