Arms Steal

Grumbles
and mumbles
Humouring
the rumours,
we've been tumbled,
rumbled
in the market place.
Selling all
the counterfeit goods
that we can,
from  Blackpools
bright streets
to the burning
suburbs
of Afghanistan
Pegging it
we ran
Slamming the doors
foot to the floor
in our
second hand
Pickfords
delivery van
Selling arms
can be calming
It offers a balm
despite the harm
We're charming
the pants
off the ranting
panting
crowds
Conning the blighters
We also
do lighters
Because one mans
terrorist
is anothers mans
freedom fighter
so we keep saying
Praying
 for profit
from clerics
and prophets
Hoping
against hope
that we sell
the soap
we bought cheap
and sell steep
Called pope
on a rope