(Tragedy now strikes hard. The world's imagination is caught by the brutal senseless[ness] of the apparent criminal who slays his kind old mistress)

[Intro]
"The customary quiet of Babbacombe, a residential suburb of Torquay, was greatly disturbed early on Saturday morning
And the peaceful inhabitants were aroused to a state of intense alarm and terror by one of the most frightful tragedies that human devilment could plan or human deed could perpetrate
The name of the victim was Miss Emma Anne Whitеhead Keyes
An еlderly lady of some sixty-eight years
The name of her home
And the scene of her tragedy, was 'The Glen'
She was found early in the morning
Lying on her dining room floor
Her throat had been horribly cut
And there were three wounds on her head
It was evident that her murderer
Had also attempted to burn the corpse"

[Verse 1]
The world has surely lost it's head, the news is full of crimes
There's robberies in The Telegraph
And there's murders in The Times
And always more obituaries and even one of these
Concerns the brutal slaughter of an old Miss Emma Keyes

[Verse 2]
The police have got their man
They're sure, he never left the scene
Indeed, he raised the hue and cry, a most unusual thing
An arsonist, a murderer, his soul will soon be frying
He's young but old enough to kill
But he's not too young for dying
[Verse 3]
And it seems the populace will queue to see him stand in court
To hear him speak his wicked lies while smiling at his thoughts
This arrogant young ruffian is obviously guilty
Though nowhere does it say exactly how or why he killed her

[Instrumental Break]
[Guitar Solo]

[Verse 4]
Forget it dear, it's not the first and there's bound to be another
And the way you carry on
You'll have us thinking she's your mother
This man called Lee has had his day and soon he'll be forgotten
So put that paper down before your breakfast goes quite rotten