(Difford/Tilbrook)
The Indians send signals
From the rocks above the pass
The cowboys take positions
In the bushes and the grass
The squaw is with the Corporal
She is tied against the tree
She doesn't mind the language
It's the beating she don't need
She lets loose all the horses
When the Corporal is asleep
And he wakes to find the fire's dead
And arrows in his hats
And Davy Crockett rides around
And says it's cool for cats
The Sweeney's doing ninety
'Cos they've got the word to go
They get a gang of villains
In a shed up at Heathrow
They're counting out the fivers
When the handcuffs lock again
In and out of Wandsworth
With the numbers on their names
It's funny how their missus'
Always look the bleeding same
And meanwhile at the station
There's a couple of likely lads
Who swear like how's your father
And they're very cool for cats
They're cool for cats
To change the mood a little
I've been posing down the pub
On seeing my reflection
I'm looking slightly rough
I fancy this, I fancy that
I wanna be so flash
I give a little muscle
And I spend a little cash
But all I get is bitter and a nasty little rash
And by the time I'm sober
