Basing Street

It’s an ugly sight by the police light
Lonely now as the innocents leave in two’s and three’s
Cop straightens up wipping blood off his hand
Says Christ above that’s the worst I’ve seen in more than seventeen
Somebody says I think I remember him now
Used to see him hanging round but it’s hard to be sure looking at him now
Whose hand made the boy suffer and bleed
Who did the deed on Basing Street
It’s four twenty-nine and out on the airways
Late night DJ plays for the lost and lonely and their late night ways
Poppin pills washed down with coffee
With a little coffee blows a cigarette ash off the late news flash
The world is waiting for now in the palm of his hand he leans toward
The microphone and says
We interrupt this program
But out there in radio land they’re all asleep
As the firemen hose down Basing Street