And the Guildhall witness never said a word Just stared from the window as a head hit the curb And the bat left the boot Chain hit it's mark, man stays down, house gets dark And it's showtime in the wrong place, in the wrong colour In the wrong face of an angry mother... ...fucker And the Guildhall witness pulled the ring from a can Watched it froth over, and run down his hand Shaken and tuneless, covered in fear Walks to the stage smelling of beer And it's showtime in the wrong place, in the wrong colour In the wrong face of an angry mother... Showtime in the wrong place, in the wrong colour In the wrong face of an angry mother... ...fucker