We went into town on the Tuesday night. Searching all the places that you hang about. We're looking for you. In the back street cellar dive drinking clubs. In the discotheques and the gaming pubs. We're looking for you. You will pay the price for my own sweet brother. And what he has become. And a hundred other boys and girls. And all that you have done. We picked up the trail at the Seven Crowns. One of your cronies he was doing your rounds. We followed him. Just a silhouette figure up Market Pass. Where the headlamps shine on the broken glass. We followed him. Over the bridge by the old canal. Where the shadows dance on the lighted wall. He stopped to light up a cigarette. And we dived into a doorway. Chorus:. No police no summons no courts of law. No proper procedure no rules of war. No mitigating circumstance. No layers fees no second chance. There are lasses getting trouble on their own home beat. There are old folk battered in the open street. In this city of hours. There are eyes that see but say nothing at all. There are ears that hear but they don't recall. In this city of hours. So we followed your man back to your front door. And we're waiting for you outside. 'Cause not everybody here is scared of you. Not everybody passes on the other side. Chorus:. No police no summons no courts of law . .. And we could spend our whole lives waiting for some thunderbolt to come. And we could spend our whole lives waiting for some justice to be done.