The Holy Mugger Lyrics - Fatima Mansions

Here he comes, in the dead of the month 

His hair falling out, his shoulders hunched 

Secure with his Third World expectation 

[...] open sewers of degredation 

I hate his guts though we we have not spoken 

[...] feeling? You must be joking! 

The Lambourghini cleaner scowls 

Everybody hates the holy mugger 

Yeah, the holy mugger 

I have to send this blacklist out 

and watch these rakes crawl past my house 

The silence here has driven me mad 

Jihad, jihad, what the fuck was that? 

The holy mugger 

The holy mugger 

The holy mugger 

In a week, he's dead, nobody talks 

but they never do--it was his own fault 

His body's in the gutter, just the way he fell 

We glower at the sight and ignore the smell 

and it's closing time at the Shiatsu Brothel 

and the rail track breaths a rickety rattle 

The burglars drive their hearses home 

The kids stay in and learn to speak in code 

Who dunnit? I don't know. I don't know!