Now lightning strikes in old New York It may be dark but I wanna talk It might rain, it might snow Too many things that I got to know If this is spring
The towers of London, these crumbling rocks Reality estates that the hero's got And every hour's marked by the chime of a clock And whatcha gonna do when
Is the music of grove skin rock Soaked in the diesel of war boys war? Blood, black gold and the face of a judge Is the music calling for a river of blood
"It ain't my fault it's six o'clock in the morning" He said, coming out of the night When he found I had no coins to bum he began to testify Born in a
They offered me the office, offered me the shop They said I'd better take anything they'd got Do you wanna make tea at the BBC? Do you wanna be, do you
They cried the tears, they shed the fears Up and down the land They stole guitars or used guitars So the tape would understand Without even the slightest
Down the road came a Junco Partner Boy, he was loaded as can be He was knocked out, knocked out loaded He was a'wobblin' all over the street Singing
So you're on the floor, at 54 Think you can last at the palace Does your body go to the to and fro? Tonight's the night, oh didn't you know That Ivan
Summon up the mas Play on the pan Staring dreads are jerking their locks As the white star liner sank in the docks But on the drummers face, there is
(Tymon Dogg) Come with me. I won't hide We're going on a ride We meet each day, use time to see While we're young and almost free I've got to lose this
(The Clash/Dread) *Left Channel* Make sure! Taking cover in the bunker tonight Waiting for Bo Diddley's headlights I feel alright Gotta Fender Stratosphere
there are no lyrics. Mensforth Hill is simply "something about england" backwards..
I wasn't going that far The junkie slip! I said I wasn't doin' it The junkie slip! Yea thought I'd find a rhythm in the junkie town Thought I'd find a
Look here! What d'you think you're Gonna be doin' next year? No lie... How you know you're not Gonna up and die? No doubt... Soon enough your friends
Stop wastin' time Right One more breath One more time in the ghetto And one more time if you please One One more time for the dying man One more time
Working for the devil you'll have to pay his tax That means going to see him down among the racks You don't believe in him, but he can wait for you You
I put you 'pon you feet A-some a-some a say you can't play de beat And I hear you say a Clash a you ruler Say a Clash sound cooler, eh Say a Clash sound
Charlie don't surf and we think he should Charlie don't surf and you know that it ain't no good Charlie don't surf for his hamburger momma Charlie's gonna
