I was walking home
Down the dark road
where the streetlamps had blown
He was just half-grown
Showed me his pistol and asked for a loan
And as he took my money I said
"Don't point that thing at me
I don't want it going off
I don't like that kind of stuff
Don't point that thing at me
It may feel good in your hand
But that don't mean that you're a real man"
Talk on Channel 4
"Risks of post-Soviet nuclear war"
Big map on the floor
And they've just drawn a ring round the airfield next door
So as I fill my sandbags I say
"Don't point that thing at me
I don't want it going off
Aw come on Mr. Gorbachev
Don't point that thing at me
It may feel good in your hand
But that don't mean that you're a real man"
Phoned my new friend Fay
"Can I come over, it's been quite a day."
We played Marvin Gaye
Arm round her waist, I was doing OK
But as I moved in closer she said
"Don't point that thing at me
I don't want it going off
I just don't know you well enough
Don't point that thing at me
It may feel good in your hand
But that don't mean that you're a real man"
Don't point that thing at me
Don't point that thing at me
Don't point that thing at me