Used to be that wreckers, smugglers, pirates, gun runners would ply their trade. Now it is ever more sinister given the banking and political circles within which they ply their trade increasingly in West and Central Africa where natural reserves are carved up between multinationals with the assistance of European, Eurasian and American governments. A song of middle men and running drugs and oil and armoury.

Lyrics

Bobby’s a little dazzler doing well of late
Running guns and money
in a post colonial state
Rick’s a little fixer closed a deal today
Oiled with blood and thunder
amazed the price they pay
amazed the price they will pay

Refrain
So Sister Mercy what can I do
but remonstrate till my face turns blue
People say it has always been so ,
but I say no no no no no

Chorus
Drugs and oil and armory
Mountain hard to climb
Hard to get a foothold
Bodies hard to find
Love for power and money
Takes a certain kind
They don’t want you to find
They don't want you to find.

International lawyers
Draw the paper tight
Looking through the loophole,
To make the thing look right
Platitude diplomacy perpetrator free
Contract Clause the trigger,
Fuels the misery
Fuels the misery

Refrain and Chorus

Bankers they all finance
the god forsaken trade
When’ll they be taken down
for the trouble that they’ve made
Chosen words are not enough
spin equates to bluff
Politician handshake
a dash upon the cuff
Chorus