by Your whim, we survive
You choose to work us to our bones
or let us sleep for five
Hail to ye, O’ Gods of Call,
by Your whim, we live
Those who show up at midnight,
help us to forgive
Let not the angry visit the bar
give not a knife to the crazy,
Hide from the drunk the key to the car
we’re tired, not lazy
The drunks will drink and punch and stab,
gangs will surely fight
Shooters will shoot, bleeders will bleed,
but keep them home tonight