We Are The Mob Poem by Jonathan Howard

Think of what you have to say,
Dare not tell us a lie;
For with us, ‘mate’, you cannot play,
Game not – lest you will die.

We were, are and will be the Mob,
You are of victims one;
If you’re not truthful you will sob:
With us you won’t be done.

You know what runs the show is cash,
So money here will do;
If you won’t pay then you we’ll thrash
And kill you though and through.

So pay us and be silent now
Or pay it (face your death):
You are a pig, your spouse a sow,
We own you and your breath.

(Summer 2005.)