Our story, it starts
Right at the end of the life of poor Jenny
Clocked out like Big Ben
Dear Screech, dear boy, where did he go?
He melted into the black night
Just like snow

Patrick, man, let me in, please open the door
I think I fucked up, Patrick
Really fucked up, man, i'm not sure
I got crazy
Left this lady lying still on the floor
I think I killed her, Patrick, come on man
I can't knock no more
But Screech kept on knocking
'till his knuckles became sore
But there's no sign of Patrick
Down at number 54 no refuge for our villain
For the bitter hands of fate
Have something far more sinister in mind
That does await

Hello? Hey babe, you in?
Nah, nothing really, I'm just a bit tired
Listen, can I swing around yours
For a few moments?
I just really miss you, babe
What the fuck do you mean you're busy?
You fucking bitch, for fuck's sake

Sirens sound approaching like a
Banshee in the night
The shrill cry of justice cutting
Like the sharpest knife
But Screech was never one to run
Not one to miss a fight
One hand upon his blade
He turned to face the blue light
"Come on then, you fucking cunts
Lets fucking have you then
I am Screech, I'm the boss here
I'm the ender of man
You think that uniform you're wearing means
That you own these streets
Well these are my fucking streets and
They call me fucking Screech"
Richard was an officer, who stood at 6 foot 3
Working London on the night shift
What he didn't think he'd see
Was a boy running at him
Like an animal possessed
With no time to hesitate
He fired four bullets at Screech's chest

Our story it ends, right at the start
Young Screech and poor Jenny
Lying one street apart
An officer shaken, by the boy that he claimed
Two bodies lay lifeless
And it's such a shame it's such a shame

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