it's times like these when a neck looks for a knife,
a wrist for a razor, a heart is longing for bullets
tension is high under sea and over sky
pressure drop, people are acting foolish
ooh - but it's easy to see!
ooh - we could dance and be free
ooh - to that 2-tone beat!
but it looks like it's gone
gangsters and clowns with a stereotyped sound
it's coming like a ghosst town - someone always knew it
hatred and shame, a racialist game
cycles of blame - someone sang me through it
who? well it's easy to see
ooh - we could dance to be free
ooh - to that 2-tone beat!
but it looks like it's gone
i asked jerry, he told terry, terry sang a song just for me,
lynvall gave a message to me,
rhoda screamed and then she asked me,
"where have all the rude boys gone?"