Laughing Crims poem



We run down the street to escape the local cops.

I went into the liquor store with my mate Arnie –

we looked around and spied that big fat gringo:

together we said, “Give us the cash, this is a stick up!”

He had no option – we were the guys with a sawn off.

Then it was off down the street with four bags of cash,

our haul for the day and an easy life.

What would we do? Where would we go? Down to Brazil

or off to Antigua to start a new life? No one can stop us,

not even the cops ’cause we’re off laughin’ in a nicked getaway car.

We are the gangsters who like the rough, tumble and dangerous life.

My name is Gizmo, my mates is Arnie.

Laughin’ criminals is what we are, make your mind up,

you love us or hate us.

The cash is ours no questions asked,

as the stick up never fails to bring in the loot.

Our getaway is made as the cops arrive too late,

the cash is gone and so are we!

Who took the money? What did they look like? Can you give a description?

Well officer, one was fat and the other was small, they had tights over their faces

but that’s all I can say as I was scared bloody shitless.

They’re a pair of criminals, that’s what they are.

Taking my cash and not being caught.

So another unsolved robbery in this crazy little town.

We’ll go and have a celebratory drink in our special pubs.

Two pints of lager and give us your cash ’cause we’re the laughin’ criminals

on another job. This makes ten and we’ve never been nicked.

Could you do better and make it twenty?

Let us know when you see us again –

we’ll be at an off-licence up near you.




poems read by me at Ring o' Bells pub, Middleton 28/8/11 ►


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