Wishing Well
What's that siren, what's that bell?
The S.S. are back with their van of Hell.
Little John Cotton is plied with rum,
His heart is beating to a poacher's drum.
"Better not squeal, better not tell...
Or they'll find you at the bottom of that wishing well."
What's that siren, what's that bell?
The Social Services are back with their van of Hell.
Little John Cotton holds his bum,
Better not move, better play dumb,
"Better not squeal, better not tell...
Or they'll find you at the bottom of that wishing well."
The Social Services are back with their van of Hell.
Little John Cotton holds his bum,
Better not move, better play dumb,
"Better not squeal, better not tell...
Or they'll find you at the bottom of that wishing well."
What's that siren, what's that bell?
The boys in blue are back with their honor to sell.
Little John Cotton cries for his mum,
She's dead now and won't ever come.
"Better not squeal, better not tell...
Or they'll find you at the bottom of that wishing well."
The boys in blue are back with their honor to sell.
Little John Cotton cries for his mum,
She's dead now and won't ever come.
"Better not squeal, better not tell...
Or they'll find you at the bottom of that wishing well."
What's that uniform, what's that? Hell!
They're going at him with their 'truncheons' all pell mell.
"Better not squeal, better not tell...
Or they'll find you at the bottom of that wishing well."
They're going at him with their 'truncheons' all pell mell.
"Better not squeal, better not tell...
Or they'll find you at the bottom of that wishing well."
Now little John Cotton is selling himself on the street,
Just another one of those kids they call 'prime meat'.
"Better not squeal, better not tell...
Or they'll find you at the bottom of that wishing well."
Just another one of those kids they call 'prime meat'.
"Better not squeal, better not tell...
Or they'll find you at the bottom of that wishing well."
What's that siren, what's that bell?
The gangstas in high places have money to kill.
Little John Rotten is doing drugs,
First they injected him, now he's one of their thugs.
"Better not squeal, better not tell...
Or they'll press legal charges and lock you back in a cell."
The gangstas in high places have money to kill.
Little John Rotten is doing drugs,
First they injected him, now he's one of their thugs.
"Better not squeal, better not tell...
Or they'll press legal charges and lock you back in a cell."
What's that uniform, what's that? Hell!
Little John Cotten got into the wrong car.
"Now he's squealing, now he's screaming...
They've thrown him in a cage and they're feeding him through a grill."
Little John Cotten got into the wrong car.
"Now he's squealing, now he's screaming...
They've thrown him in a cage and they're feeding him through a grill."
What's that siren, what's that bell?
The psychos in high places are getting paranoid.
They want to wipe up after themselves,
Its just good business, its just good hygiene.
Too late to squeal, too late to tell...
They found little Johnny at the bottom of a wishing well!
The psychos in high places are getting paranoid.
They want to wipe up after themselves,
Its just good business, its just good hygiene.
Too late to squeal, too late to tell...
They found little Johnny at the bottom of a wishing well!
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