On The Town       

He's got a black beard; a manic stare
Cruising the streets in the cold night air
You better watch out you could be next
Maybe it’s the sight of you in that dress
Flash car, five pound note
He’ll wrap you up in his overcoat
His wife’s at home making his tea
Unaware that he’s done number three

Somebody’s daughter, somebody’s mother
It could be your brother or even your lover
Face to face with a psychopath
Living with the aftermath

He’s got a soft voice, gentle smile
He’d like to know you for a while
He’ll take you to the local park
No-one will find you ‘cos it’s got dark
He gives you money, takes your life
Then back to suburbia with his wife
Another day over the night falls down
The painted ladies are back on the town

Wasp waisted, bedroom eyes
He’s there waiting, that’s no surprise
Brake light, "Doing business tonight?"
This one’s easy she won’t put up a fight
Black beard, manic stare
Cruising the streets in the cold night air
I told you that you’d be next
But you wouldn’t listen ‘cos you knew best

Bryars / Christon / Rawlinson / Taylor