We're talkin' about a thick necked man in the city Build a pub a blood and sweat Swears by God he'll 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 He's sucked you in, he'll spit you out This money-minded son of a bitch Will not a penny lend And all I can do is pray to God He'll suffer in the end We're talkin' 'bout thick-necked man in a three-piece Killing from his office desk The many places he has been And many more he'll visit yet Without his mommy's pride and kisses Without his country's confidence Without the dying man's permission Without no guilt or consequence This bloody-minded son of a bitch Has not a wound to mend And all I can do is pray to God He'll suffer in the end Now we're talkin' 'bout a thick-necked man in a fist fight Losing lots of blood It's 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 he's in? He says he'll turn to Jesus if he'll Bail him out and buy him gin This narrow-minded son of a bitch Has not a soul to mend And all I can do is pray to God He'll get one in the end