Humming a song

The Zeds of Malton by the Clash

When they scrape at your front door. How you gonna come? With your hands protectin' your head. Or on the trigger of your gun

When the zeds break in. How you gonna go? Dragged out on the pavement. Or waiting on death row

You can bust us You can bruise us But you'll have to answer to Oh, the Zeds of Malton!

The pistol feels so good. And your life you like it well. But surely your time will come. As in heaven, as in hell

You know we hear you crying. Out under the Malton sun. Your game is called surviving. At the end of the harder they come.

You know we accord no mercy. When we catch you with a gun. No need for the funeral coffin. Goodbye to the Malton sun

You can bust us You can bruise us Yes, even shoot us But oh-the Zeds of Malton!

When they scrape at your front door. How you gonna come? With your hands protectin' your head. Or on the trigger of your gun

You can bust us You can bruise us Yes, even shoot us But oh-the Zeds of Malton!

Dragged out on the pavement. Waiting for the death bell Your game is called surviving. As in heaven as in hell

You can bust us You can shoot us But you'll have to answer to Oh, the Zeds of Malton!