There's murder in the air tonight.
The tolerant are reading of the current horrors,
And they're feeling alone.
They'll not march twenty strong.
The charges are up, but nobody's charging.
Take it on the chin!
Be a man!
Don't make a fuss!
There's murder colouring the fog tonight.
Distant owls would feast long on this vermin,
Belching forth their vitriol.
Silent wings cut the darkness
Arcing to a haze blurred moon.
The rats will creep on in our empty factories.
There's murder in our minds, alright.
The hanging judge is now buried deep,
Ingrained in morality.
Justice is just a perspective,
And punishment is a blanket and blinkers.
We don't have to take it!
Be a man!
Stand up! Stand tall!
There's murder in the air tonight.
A city's arteries clogged with suspicion,
CCTV envy perched behind every fearing doorstep.
And for everything we are,
And for everything we own,
To everything we aspire,
There's murder.
