She came, as in the book, Mickey Spillane
That Saturday night dark masquerade
Had filled his friend with lead, the same, sweetheart
But then, as nothing happens quite the same
Investigation is the game
He had to check her story right away-he dead
Sam Spade his buddy Archer first to go he got it
She spelt it out, how could they know the 'Fatman' got it -he dead
Her sister didn't really live at all-confusion-he dead
His chase led to the Fatman, to face the friends of Mr. Cairo

To face the friends of Mr. Cairo

That night, the double crosser got it right
Pretending he was really dim
He slipped to Sam a double gin (Mickey Finn)

He woke, the boys had gone, but not his gun
They'd left a note to lead him on
The chase to find the Maltese Falcon-you bet
Early thirties gangster movies
Set to spellbind population
From Chicago to Hong Kong
Via Istanbul the Talking Tong

Dirty rats thru' prohibition
Money flowed thru gangsterism

Or Edward 'G' and all those guys
Who always shoot between the eyes
Between the eyes
Between the eyes

Father love do you work, do you work for Mother
Chances could call, and accept that, be no other
Tell me straight be the Godfather be no other
Now being here, being now, being here believing
Being here, being here.