Written by: McCarthy. Charles Windsor who's at the door. At such an hour who's at the door. In the back of an old green cortina. You're on your way to the guillotine. Here the rabble comes. The kind you hoped were dead. They've come to chop to chop off your head. Hundreds of bound big business men. Hacks from 'The Sun' military men. So many rich men weep in despair. On and on into Trafalgar Square. Here the rabble comes. The kind you hoped were dead. They've come to chop to chop off your head. These once peaceful streets. The scenes of revenge you had not wished to see. Revenge is so sweet to those who have never known anything sweet. Here the rabble comes. The kind you hoped were dead. They've come to chop to chop off your head.