Broadway

"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 depression, born out of good luck

Born into misery in the back of a truck

I'm telling you this mister, don't be put off by looks

I've been in the ring and I took those right hooks

Yeah, tight hooks

Oh, the loneliness

Used to knock me out harder than the rest

And I've worked through breakfast and I ain't had no lunch

Been on delivery and received every punch

Yeah

Suddenly I noticed

That it weren't quite the same

Feel different one morning

Maybe it was the rain

But everywhere I looked all over the city

They're running in an out of the bars

Someone stopped for a pick-up

Driving one of those cars

You see I always wanted one of those cars

Long black and shiny and pull up to the bars

Honk your horn, put down your windows

Push on your button, and hear it coming in

Yeah, you can say, I can see the light

Yeah, I can see the light

Roll! Forward! Drive! Green lights! Green lights!

Intersection, city coming

Running comeback, home I run back

Not that strong now, oh yeah

Yes, who's there now, can I help you?

Calling Intel station light tonight

Did you put your money in?

Did you put your money in?

Yes I put it in, yes I put it in

I can see the light, yeah yeah yeah, go go go

It say go, I say go, she say go, so we say go

Because I can see the light

All night, tonight, this night, right now

Coming on, coming on, forward motion

Across the ocean, and up the hills

Yeah, boys let's strike for the hills

While that petrol tank is full

Give me a push, give me a pull

Give me a lamb, give me a mule

Give me a donkey or give me a horse

Down the avenue, down the avenue

Oh, so fine in time

[Outro: Blowing in the Guns of Brixton]

When they kick at your front door

How you gonna come?

With your hands on your head

On the trigger of your gun

When the law break in

Shot down on the pavement

Or waiting in death row [?]

You can shot us

You can bruise us

But oh, the guns of Brixton

Oh, the guns of Brixton

When they kick at your front door

How you gonna go?

With your hands on your head

On the trigger of your gun

When the law break in

Shot down on the pavement

Or waiting in death row [?]

You can shot us

You can bruise us

Oh, the guns of Brixton

Oh, the guns of Brixton

"That's enough now! I'm tired of singing!"