quiet twilight side street, Amsterdam suddenly a lonesome engine drone the boys with the blue lights want out in the red they long to hear the sirens turn them on undercover with their truncheons of steel they wanna cop a feel they f** the order f** the law with their facist retribution f** the order f** the law and their facist retribution f**ing pigs cruising for a bruising of the pain handcuffed to the strong arm of the law but there's no need to be alarmed the tinted windows kepp them from the grieving's bodily harm GBH when the guns are fired and the smoke has blown all the rockers will have to roll home and hopefully the heat won't be so hot as to get out and get another shot in the strong arm of the law