somewhere in the heart of rome

through gardens long since overgrown

down old arcades of broken stone

I met the ghost of al capone

upon request for some i.d.

he said the guardian angels are working for me

I called for a cop - he said stop or I shoot

one or two holes in your three piece suit

I say... steady on old fruit.
he told me not to be so cute

consider the river and the concrete boots

the devil and the deep blue sea
what you saw you didn't see

the guardian angels are working for me

the arms... the raving arms

and the hustle and the bustle - muscle in

I get sandwiched between the palms

the waving palms

and the banknotes rustle like an international language

even the recession doesn't put him out of pocket

back in the depression - he made a profit

a one-man crime wave - who can stop it?
the aged william in his pocket

blackmail. blue films. narcotics...

served with the style of a real neurotic
and the easy smile of a true psychotic

a sort of refugee

from the heart of the apostolic sea

from one flat fee to another flat fee

the hours are short and the money's free
and the guardian angels are working for me

the arms... the raving arms

and the hustle and the bustle - muscle in

I get sandwiched between the palms

the waving palms

and the banknotes rustle like an international language

I under pressure - suggested it

why not confess and quit

you're thirty-nine sir and less than fit
he took my false address and split

by the dirt roads, through the fever trees

in a lamborghini - if you please

to get from a to b

I beat my heart and bend my knee
the guardian angels are working for me

paralysed in precious stone

canonized - I stand alone
in the clouds of paradise - my home

a million orchids deck the throne

of the man who numbered al capone
the man who numbered all his bones

a personal friend of the burning tree