Ghost of Al Capone

In a marble room I was alone
Somewhere in the heart of rome
Through gardens long since overgrown
Down old arcades of broken stone
I met the ghost of Al Capone
Upon request for some i.d.
He said the guardian angels are working for me

I called for a cop – he said stop or I shoot
One or two holes in your three piece suit
I say… steady on old fruit.
He told me not to be so cute
Consider the river and the concrete boots
The devil and the deep blue sea
What you saw you didn’t see
The guardian angels are working for me
 
The arms… the raving arms
And the hustle and the bustle – muscle in
I get sandwiched between the palms
The waving palms
And the banknotes rustle like an international language
Even the recession doesn’t put him out of pocket
Back in the depression – he made a profit
A one-man crime wave – who can stop it?
The aged william in his pocket
Blackmail. blue films. narcotics…
Served with the style of a real neurotic
And the easy smile of a true psychotic
A sort of refugee

From the heart of the apostolic sea
From one flat fee to another flat fee
The hours are short and the money’s free
And the guardian angels are working for me
The arms… the raving arms
And the hustle and the bustle – muscle in
I get sandwiched between the palms
The waving palms
And the banknotes rustle like an international language

I under pressure – suggested it
Why not confess and quit
you’re thirty-nine sir and less than fit
He took my false address and split
By the dirt roads, through the fever trees
In a Lamborghini – if you please
To get from a to b
I beat my heart and bend my knee
The guardian angels are working for me

Paralysed in precious stone
Canonized – I stand alone
In the clouds of paradise – my home
A million orchids deck the throne
Of the man who numbered Al Capone
The man who numbered all his bones
A personal friend of the burning tree
The guardian angels are working for me.
What you saw you didn’t see
The guardian angels are working for me.