Was a Rapper
There was a rapper in Bristol Town
And he told a wicked story
He said, "I pray to the ghosts in my head
And they speak what lies before me
I mould them thoughts into golden orbs
And the audience applauds me"
And he loved the love of strangers well
But he loved his missus poorly

It weren't too long till a man ran along
And said, "I'll be your agent"
They rode to a tower where the cocaine flowed
And the fat controller praised him
His lady called from home and said
"That's cause for celebration"
But he never got back that month
He went on tour and kept her waiting

There is a pub down eastern way
Where tired folk can gather
They tell tall tales of a ship full-sail
And a bold and broken rapper
Who went too far too fast in the game
Where snakes sell broken ladders
The ghosts fell out of his head, and soon
His mind went tumbling after
The faster you write, the harder you fall
(The faster you write, the harder you fall)

There was a rapper in Bristol Town
But now he begs for coppers
Shakes his tin at the spinning door
Of the fat controller's office
Curses all the folk within:
"You fat cats all are tossers"
And his girl's long gone; her road [left him?]
And she had some better offers

The faster you write, the harder you fall
The faster you write, the harder you fall

There was a rapper in Bristol Town
Who told a wicked story
I never had his fame but now
I'm glad he lived it for me
He died this morning, pulled from the gorge
A sad and listless body
He loved the love of strangers well
But he loved his missus poorly