He was just a gun for hire
If the price was right
And the job could be completed
Nine pm to midnight.
Booked into his room
On the day of the work
Making sure he was noticed
By the booking clerk;
They he'd change
Always into drag
And he carried his Glock
In a cocktail bag.
You'd never have known
If you'd passed on the street,
The transformation amazing
The disguise so complete.
How many victims fell
For those languorous eyes
And the cocktail bag
With its lethal surprise.
Job done, into his case
His disguise went
And from the room emerged
The natty gent.
Then off he went
Back to his real work
Civil Servant,
Benefits Clerk.
A seven year wage freeze
Had brought the need
For a secondary income
So his family could live and feed.
His constant hope, sense would prevail
And he could dispense with the drag
And hang up his Glock
And his Cocktail Bag.
Until then he watched
The Facebook page
That supplied the jobs
That brought him up to a living wage.
