Spring light in a hazy May
  and a man with a gun at the door
  Someone's crawling on the roof above ---
  all the media here for the show
  I've been waiting for our friends to come
  Like spiders down ropes to free-fall
  A thirty round clip for a visiting card ---
  admit one to the embassy ball
    Caught in the crossfire on Princes Gate Avenue
  In go the windows and out go the lights
  Call me a doctor. Fetch me a policeman
  I'm down on the floor in one hell of a fight
    I'm just a soul with an innocent face ---
  a regular boy dressed in blue
  conducting myself in a proper way
  as befitting the job that I do
  They came down on me like a ton of bricks
  Swept off my feet, knocked about
  There's nothing for it but to sit and wait
  for the hard men to get me out
    Calm reason floats from the street below
  and the slow fuse burns through the night
  Everyone's tried to talk it through
  but they can't seem to get the deal right
  Somewhere there are Brownings in a two-hand hold ---
  cocked and locked, one up the spout
  There's nothing for it but to sit and wait
  for the hard men to get me out