Clash - Broadway lyrics
"It ain't my fault it's 6 'o'clock in the morning", he said as he came up out of the nightWhen he found I had no coins to bum, he began to testifyBorn in a depressionBorn out of good luckBorn into misery in the back of a truckI'm telling you this mister, Don't be put off by looksI been in the ring and I took those right hooksOh, the lonelinessYou used to knock me out harder than the restAnd I've worked for breakfast and I ain't had no lunchI been on delivery and received every punchAnd suddenly I noticed that it weren't quite the sameFeel different one morningMaybe it was the rainBut everywhere I looked all over the city, they're runnin' in an out of the barsAnd someone stopped for a pick-up, driving one of those carsYa see, I always wanted one of those carsLong black and shiny and pull up to the barsHonk your horn, put down your windowsPush another button and hear it coming inYou can say, I can see the lightOh, I can see the lightRoll forwardDriveGreen lightsGreen lightsIntersection cityComingRunningComeback homeI run backNot that strong nowOhYeahYes, who's there now?Can I help you?Calling intelStation light tonightDid you put your money in?Did you put your money in?Yes, I put it inYes, I put it inKnock outSee the lightYeah, yeah, yeah, yeahGo trophyIt say, GoI say, GoShe say, GoSo we say, GoCause I can see the lightAll nightTonightThis nightRight nowComing onComing onForward motionAcross the ocean and up the hillsYeah boys, let's strike for the hills while that petrol tank is fullGimme a pushGimme a pullGimme a llamaGimme a muleGimme a donkey or gimme a horseDown the avenueDown the avenueSo fineIn timeIn styleWhen they kick at your front door, how you gonna come, with your hands on your head or on the trigger of your gun?When the law break in, shot down on the pavement or blowing in the wind?You can crush us, you can bruise usOh, the guns of BrixtonOh, the guns of BrixtonWhen they kick at your front door, how you gonna go, with your hands on your head or on the trigger of your gun?When the law break in, shot down on the pavement or blowing in the wind?You can crush us, you can bruise usOh, the guns of BrixtonOh, the guns of BrixtonThats enough nowIm tiered of singing
