Our story, it starts

Right at the end of the life of poor Jenny

Clocked out like Big BenThis 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 a lady laying 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 faith

Have something far more sinister in mind, that does await

Hi babe, you in?

Nah, nothing really, I'm just a bit tired

Listen, can I swing around yours for a few minutes?

I just really miss you, babe

What the fuck you mean you′re busy?

You fucking bitch, for fucks 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

A 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 body′s lay lifeless, and it's such a shame

It's such a shame