No need to kill me

I do not believe it, I think I've been stabbed!
I'm bleeding all over my coat
This psychotic Nazi just came up and grabbed
me and stuck a big knife in my throat.

I assume I was stabbed but I'm feeling no pain
So it's hard to say whether or not
I've been stabbed, or caught one of my pimples again
But it's bleeding too much for a spot

It only just happened a second ago
I was walking past Milligan's bar
When, fists flying, emerges some guy I don't know
And falls over in front of a car

I just shouted "Oi!", a reaction I think
as his mates followed into the rain
they heard me and stared with those eyes that don't blink
so I pointed and tried to explain

"You nearly got killed mate" I tried with a smile
but the driver had swerved and turned right.
He got up and grabbed me and, after a while
shouted, "Me? Getting' killed in a fight?!"

"no, not in the pub, mate, out here on the street"
I was smiling but started to worry
I prayed he would smile, maybe thank me, and treat
me, him and his friends to a curry

but the look in his eyes, through the rain, was so grim
and I knew that whatever I said
it would always translate to me threatening him
in some way that I wanted him dead

"well I'm on the street now so let's see what you got!"
he said, pulling a blade from thin air
I thought about fighting, then thought "better not"
So I said, "ooh, just look over there"

His eyes never moved and his grip didn't give
He just smiled as his friends egged him on
I cried and I told him I wanted to live
But his hand moved and then he was gone

It didn't hurt much, I just slumped to the floor
I can still hear their shouts as they ran
all I can hear as I watch my blood pour
Is them telling him he is "the man"

Well you may be a man in the eyes of those fools
But, believe it or not, so am I
And, unlike you, I don't make up my own rules
So why is it me who should die?

Why is it me, who listened at school,
Who tried to get by and be good
Who's dying while you, with your shallow gene pool
Drag my civilised world through the mud

In my current condition I've no time for fear
And there are a few things I should say.
Where are you, you bastard? I want you right here
While the life you destroyed ebbs away

I want you to tell me, explain if you can
Just what gives you the right to decide
Who lives and who dies, and why you are the man
It's a big job, are you qualified?

Have you earned this position of power, eh 'MATE"?
Officially expert in 'life'?
Up there in the ranks of the wise and the great
like Churchill, but armed with a knife?

and why me, what did I do for crying out loud,
Did I look like I wanted to die?
Did my face send a signal from out of the crowd
Saying, "kill me but don't tell me why"?

It's important to me, as it's cost me a lot,
To find reasons for what you've just done
In the great scheme of things was this worth it or not
Or am I just a victim of fun?

See I'm dying right here on the floor now my 'friend',
Give me something for my epitaph
it just doesn't seem right putting "brought to an end
by a dickhead who fancied a laugh"