Stiff Little Fingers- Piccadilly Circus

Questa è una canzone degli Stiff little Fingers, ripresa Live nel 1981.
La canzone parla di un loro amico irlandese accoltellato senza motivi apparente a Piccadilly Circus, forse solo perché diverso.
MI venuta in mente dopo aver sentito l'atroce notizia del ragazzo picchiato a morte dagli schifosi nazisti di verona.
Per tutte le vittime del razzismo, dell'intolleranza, dell'odio.
Ecco il testo:

Piccadilly circus in the bed of night
just passing time beaneath the lights
up in town and all alone you got
no business so minds his own
the hotel room is lonely and cold
He might as well go for a stroll
Idly looking in a hi-fi shop,
Footsteps a chukle and one hard slap

And they didn't even see his face
see him flinch or hear him groan
they didn't even see his eyes
one mean blow and on they ran

He put his fingers to his side
and felt his flesh was open wide
he felt the rent the blow had made for the hand that fell had held a blade

and they didn't even see his face
see him stumble hear his cry
they didn'y even see his eyes
just lashed out in passing by
what can it mean? who can make some sense of that?
Did it mean a thing to them? What can make a mind like that?

Though forty stitches helped him over
WHo can life his life over his shoulder? he tried to put it in his past
and flew safe home to Belfast
And they didn't even see his face....