Not last night but the night before
Three feds came a knockin’ on my front door
They wanted to know if I’d seen Gunny Malore

“No,” said I. “I don’t know the guy.”
As I looked them straight back, plumb in the eye

Though I heard it from the lips of old Bullmoose
That Gunny Malore was still on the juice
That he’d tightened the nut that kept him loose
To vanquish the foe that would cook his goose

Gunny Malore, what do they want you for?
Gunny Malore, tell me what is your crime?

“In a country like mine, a man who speaks out
Is committing a crime, coz a fascist regime
Is the political clime, and a man on the run
Is fighting for time.”

Now I’ve told you my tale, stay away from my door
And don’t ask me again about Gunny Malore

I don’t know the guy, as I told you before

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