My hands are tied behind my back,
my head inside a stuffy sack.
And where's my wallet? If I'd known
I'd not have missed my mobile phone
so much, but that's what mugging's are;
one minute, safely in your car,
the next face down upon the ground,
skin red hot, blood pumping round.
Somewhere nearby I hear the crack
of leather thongs above my back.
I start to panic, start to shake,
shriek out, "Please stop, for heaven's sake!"
but still I'm cuffed, a flightless bird;
I can't recall the safety word.
As something flies over my head
I regret the thing I know I said,
before the whips and ropes and stuff,
came out with leather and handcuffs.
Nella's great, she tries you see,
but takes things way too far for me.