The bank on the quiet road, you know the one,
we'll hold it up, we need a getaway car, disquises and a gun.
Get Mr Fox to be our driver, he knows the route out,
Get Jimmy with the sharp eyes to be our look out.
You and I shall run in and demand our requirements to be met,
get the cash and try to leave nobody upset.
If any body gets in our way, do not fret and run,
crack them on the side of the skull with the gun.
get to the counter, get the money and out in a minuite flat,
act like you mean business - hell bent, a hellcat.
Get back to the car, Mr Fox knows where to go,
exit vehicle and burn it out under the bridge below.
We'll rendezvous at the yard and try not to crash,
then we'll split our ill gained cash.
It's on for tomorrow, is everybody in?
10.34am is the time of the weigh-in.
If it goes wrong and anyone is caught,
stick to the code or face an onslaught.
If you've lost your bottle and you want out,
the plan is simple and I have no doubts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem