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Lyrics |
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白い暴動 The Clash [UK] |
白い暴動 The Clash [US] |
動乱 Give'em Enough Rope |
ロンドンコーリング LONDON CALLING |
サンディニスタ! SANDINISTA! |
コンバットロック COMBAT ROCK |
The Magnificient Seven | ||
Ring! Ring! It's 7:00 A.M.! Move y'self to go again Cold water in the face Brings you back to this awful place Knuckle merchants and you bankers, too Must get up an' learn those rules Weather man and the crazy chief One says sun and one says sleet A.M., the F.M. the P.M. too Churning out that boogaloo Gets you up and gets you out But how long can you keep it up? Gimme Honda, Gimme Sony So cheap and real phony Hong Kong dollars and Indian cents English pounds and Eskimo pence You lot! What? Don't stop! Give it all you got! You lot! What? Don't stop! Yeah! Working for a rise, better my station Take my baby to sophistication She's seen the ads, she thinks it's nice Better work hard - I seen the price Never mind that it's time for the bus We got to work - an' you're one of us Clocks go slow in a place of work Minutes drag and the hours jerk "When can I tell 'em wot I do? In a second, maaan...oright Chuck!" Wave bub-bub-bub-bye to the boss It's our profit, it's his loss But anyway THE lunch bells ring Take one hour and do your thanng! Cheeesboiger! What do we have for entertainment? Cops kickin' Gypsies on the pavement Now the news - snap to attention! The lunar landing of the dentist convention Italian mobster shoots a lobster Seafood restaurant gets out of hand A car in the fridge Or a fridge in the car? Like cowboys do - in T.V. land You lot! What? Don't stop. Huh? So get back to work an' sweat some more The sun will sink an' we'll get out the door It's no good for man to work in cages Hits the town, he drinks his wages You're frettin', you're sweatin' But did you notice you ain't gettin'? Don't you ever stop long enough to start? To take your car outta that gear Don't you ever stop long enough to start? To get your car outta that gear Karlo Marx and Fredrich Engels Came to the checkout at the 7-11 Marx was skint - but he had sense Engels lent him the necessary pence What have we got? Yeh-o, magnificence!! Luther King and Mahatma Gandhi Went to the park to check on the game But they was murdered by the other team Who went on to win 50-nil You can be true, you can be false You be given the same reward Socrates and Milhous Nixon Both went the same way - through the kitchen Plato the Greek or Rin Tin Tin Who's more famous to the billion millions? News Flash: Vacuum Cleaner Sucks Up Budgie Oooohh...bub-bye Magnificence!! It's fucky long isn't it? |
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Hitsville U.K. | ||
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 hope of a 1000 sales Just as if, as if there was, a hitsville in U.K., I know the boy was all alone, til the hitsville hit U.K. They say true talent will allways emerge in time, When lightening hits small wonder - Its fast rough factory trade, No expense accounts, or lunch discounts Or hypeing up the charts, The band went in, 'n knocked 'em dead, in 2 min. 59 - No slimy deals, with smarmy eels - in hitsville U.K. Lets shake'n say, we'll operate - in hitsville U.K. The mutants, creeps and musclemen, Are shaking like a leaf, It blows a hole in the radio, When it hasnt sounded good all week, A mike'n boom, in your living room - in hitsville U.K. No consumer trials, or A.O.R., in hitsville U.K., Now the boys and girls are not alone, Now the hitsville's hit U.K. |
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Junco Partner | ||
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 6 months ain't no sentence Yeah, and one year ain't no time I was born in Angola Serving 14 to 99 Well I wish I had me one million dollars Oh, one million to call my own I would raise me, and say, "grow for me baby" Raise me a tobacco farm Take a walk, Take a walk, Junco Partner Well, when I had me a great deal of money Yeah, I had mighty good things all over town Now I ain't got no more money All of my good friends they're putting me down So now I gotta pawn my ratchet and pistol Yeah I'm gonna pawn my watch and chain I would have pawned my sweet Gabriella But the smart girl she wouldn't sign her name (repeat first verse twice) Well I'm down, yes I'm getting thirsty Pour me out a good beer, when I'm dry Just, just give me whisky, when I'm thirsty Give me headstone when I die. Down the road. |
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Ivan meets G.I. Joe | ||
So you're on the floor, at 54 Think you can last - at the Palace Does your body go to the to and fro? But tonight's the night - or didn't you know That Ivan meets G.I. Joe He tried his tricks- that Ruskie bear The United Nations said it's all fair He did the radiation - the chemical plague But he could not win - with a cossack spin The Vostok Bomb - the Stalin strike He tried every move - he tried to hitch hike He drilled a hole - like a Russian star He made every move in his repertoire When Ivan meet G.I. Joe Now it was G.I. Joe's turn to blow He turned it on - cool and slow He tried a payphone call to the Pentagon A radar scan - a leviathan He wiped the Earth - clean as a plate What does it take to make a Ruskie break? But the crowd are bored and off they go Over the road to watch China blow! When Ivan meets G.I. Joe |
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The Leader | ||
Atom secrets, secret leaflet Have the boys found the leak yet? The molehill sets the wheel in motion His downfall picks up locomotion The people must have something good to read on a Sunday The leader's wife takes a government car In the dark to meet her minister But the leader never leaves his door ajar As he swings his whip from the Boer War He wore a leather mask for his dinner guests Totally nude and with deep respect Proposed a toast to the votes he gets The feeling of power and the thought of sex! Now the girl let the fat man touch her Vodka fumes and the feel of a vulture The driver waited in the embassy car The fat man's trap was set for capture So the girl let the thin man touch her Mixing questions, drunken laughter The ministry car was waiting there A minister knows his own affair The people must have something good to read on a Sunday |
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Something About England | ||
They say immigrants steal the hubcaps Of the respected gentlemen They say it would be wine an' roses If England were for Englishmen again Well I saw a dirty overcoat At the foot of the pillar of the road Propped inside was an old man Whom time would not erode When the night was snapped by sirens Those blue lights circled fast The dancehall called for an' ambulance The bars all closed up fast My silence gazing at the ceiling While roaming the singe room I thought the old man could help me If he could explain the gloom You really think it's all new You really think about it too The old man scoffed as he spoke to me I'll tell you a thing or two I missed the fouteen-eighteen war But not the sorrow afterwards With my father dead and my mother ran off My brothers took the pay of hoods The twenties turned the north was dead The hunger strike came marching south At the garden party not a word was said The ladies lifted cake to their mouths The next war began and my ship sailed With battle orders with in bed In five long years of bullets and shells We left ten million dead The few returned to old Piccadily We limped around Leicester Square The world was busy rebuilding itself The architects could not care But how could we know when I was young All the changes that were to come? All the photos in the wallets on the battlefield And now the terror of the scientific sun There was masters an' servants an' servants an' dogs They taught you how to touch your cap But through strikes an' famine an' war an' peace England never closed this gap So leave me now the moon is up But remember all the tales I tell The memories that you have dredged up Are on letters forwarded from hell The streets were by now deserted The gangs had trudged off home The lights clicked off in the bedsits An' old England was all alone |
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Rebel Waltz | ||
I slept and I dreamed of a time long ago I saw an army of rebels, dancing on air I dreamed as I slept, I could see the campfires, A song of the battle, that was born in the flames, and the rebels were waltzing on air. I danced with a girl to the tune of a waltz that was written to be danced on the battlefield I danced to the tune of a voice of a girl A voice that called "Stand till we fall we stand till all the boys fall." As we danced came the news that the war was not won 5 armies were coming, with carrige and gun Through the heart of the camp swept the news from the front A cloud crossed the moon, a child cried for food We knew the war could not be won. So we danced with a rifle, to the rhythm of the gun in a glade through the trees i saw my only one Then the earth seemed to rise hell hot as the sun The soldiers were dying, there was tune to the sighing. The song was an old rebel one. As the smoke of our hopes rose high from the field My eyes played tricks through the moon and the trees I slept as I dreamed I saw the army rise A voice began to call, stand till you fall The tune was an old rebel one. |
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Look Here | ||
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 Will find you out Take care... You know you might not have Too much time to spare I say... How long have you been acting Up this way? One knows... When you gonna get Your own floorshow I'm hip... And you could use a button On your lip Look here What d'you think you're Gonna be doing next year I'm hip! |
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The Crooked Beat | ||
Start the car lets make a midnight run Across the river to South London To dance to the latest hi-fi sound Of bass, guitar and drum Seeking out a rhythm that can take the pressure off Stepping in and out of that crooked crooked beat Take a piece of cloth, a coin for thirst For the sweat will start to run With a cymbal splash, a word of truth And a rocking bass and drum Seeking out a rhythm that can take the pressure on Stepping in and out of that crooked crooked beat So one by one they come on down From the tower blocks of my home town Stepping with the rhythm of the rockers beat Drowning out the pressure of the crooked beat Seeking out a rhythm that can take the tension on Stepping in and out of that crooked crooked beat It has crooked past this crooked street Where cars patrol this crooked beat Badges flsh and sirens wail They'll be taking one and all to jail Prance! Prance! You want a law to dance? |
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Somebody Got Murdered | ||
Someone lights a cigarette While riding in a car Some ol' guy takes a swig And passes back in the jar But where they ware last night No-one can remember Somebody got murdered Goodbye, for keeps, forever And you're minding your own business Carring spare change You wouldn't cosh a barber You're hungry all the same I been very tempted To grab it from the till I been very hungry But not enough to kill Somebody got murdered, somebodies' dead forever Somebody got murdered, his name cannot be found A small stain on the pavement, they'll scrab it off the ground As the daily crowd disperses, no-one says that much Somebody got murdered, and it's left me with a touch Sounds like murder! Those shouts! Are they drunk down below? Listen to this, Run |
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One More Time / One More Dub | ||
Must I get a witness? for all this misery There's no need to, brothers everybody can see That its one more time in the ghetto you know One more time if you please now One more time to the dying man They say one more time if you please The old lady kicks karate For just a little walk down the street The little baby he knows kung fu He tries it on those he meets Cos its a one more time! You don't need no silicone to calculate poverty Watch when Watts town burns again The bus goes to Montgomery Cos it's a one more time in the ghetto One more time if you please One more time for the dying man One more time to be free |
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Lightning Strikes (Not Once But Twice) | ||
Now lightning strikes in old New York It may be dark but I wanna talk It might rain, it might snow Too many things I got to know If this is spring than it's time to sing Never mind the l'il birdies wing Look out, look out, old New York New York's coming an' New York talks Hey! Strike! Not once... Strike! But twice! Get out your money - peel a slab Roll some notes an' hail a cab Drive in church drive in back Drive down Seventh in a tank Take in the sights, feel the breeze See New York's one and only tree It can be found in Garbage park But don't inspect it after dark Strike! New York! Lightning! Not once but twice. Accidental hike in the transit strike Roller skate or ride a bike Three to a car, Brooklyn Bridge You won't get far if you're privileged Graffiti Jack sprays in black An Englishman can he read it back? Deli Joe he ought to know He runs the gang on Pastrami Row Strike! Lightning strike! Because glass to glass, street to street Buildings touch St. Peter's feet From car to bar, prez to shah Everything is in the jar The 4 winds blow cos the 4 winds know Takes a special hustle to make a roll Honey girl on her feet I wish everything to make her sweet Strike! Twice! OK so roll! From Harlem! Strike one! Harlem slum to penthouse block On every door I already knocked There wasn't anybody that I didn't leave alone Somebody lying under every stone Everything that a man could need In a bag down by my knee That looks good, this ain't got seeds Cheaper than booze down in the bowery Lightning strike! Old New York! Everything's light! Strike! Hey ho such a night I'll see y'all when the lightning strike A polaroid caught in the act You're married too and that's a fact But I won't peek and I won't squeek Down by the trucks on Christopher Street It's Cuban Day - Oi Vey Chinese New Year let's call it a day Tootsie! Hey Chi man! That melody is Puerto Rican Hey Chi man is what he's speaking An' there's the road down into London Town Where many cars get broken down It's the Westway from Ladbroke Grove Runs down to Old Hounslow Just thought I'd mention the new extention That run's down the 59th street intersection Did you hear the news y'all? London Town on the Broadway! |
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Up In Heaven (Not Only Here) | ||
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 the darkness surrounds? You can piss in the lifts which have broken down You can watch from the debris the last bedroom light We're invisible here just past midnight The wives hate their husbands and their hunsbands don't care Their children daub slogans to prove they lived there A giant pipe organ up in the air You can't live in a home which should not have been built By the bourgeoisie clerks who bear no guilt When the wind hits this building this building it tilts One day it will surely fall to the ground... Fear is just another commodity here They sell us peeping holes to peek when we hear A bang on the door resoundingly clear Who would really want to move in here? The children play faraway, the corridors are bare This room is a cage its like captivity How can anyone exist in such misery? It has been said not only here "Allianza dollars are spent To raise the towering buildings For the weary bones of the workers To go back in the morning To be strong in the morning" |
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Corner Soul | ||
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? Beat the drums tonight, Alphonso Spread the news all over the grove The big meeting has decided That total war must burn on the grove! Does it mean I should take my machete To chop my way through the path of life? Does it mean I should run with the dog pack Is that the way to be the one to survive? Never need a gun says Tai Chi Move on up to dragon snaps his tail Fall back on still waters Hammer with his eye on the nail 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? Spread the word tonight please, Sammy They're searching everyhouse on the grove Don't go alone now, Sammy! The wind has blown away the corner soul Tell the news for me, Sammy They're searching every place on the grove But don't go down alone new, Sammy! The wind has blown away the corner soul 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? Is the music calling for a river of blood? |
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Let's Go Crazy | ||
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 a look of dread As he drums away 400 years of dread The dancer man-in the power of mas Is smoking ti the mighty sparrow's blast But you better be careful You still got to watch yourself You wanna be crazy So you wanna go crazy Let's go crazy So you wanna be crazy Then let's go crazy Let's go crazy The lawful force are here of course For special offenders for the special court But the young men know when the sun has set Darkness comes to settle the debt Owed by a year of S.U.S. and suspect Indiscriminate use of the power of arrest They're waiting for the sun to set The mighty observer who keeps his cabinets hot A great meeting of rhythm and face A humming of values and a children's place But the sticks man gives the copper good excuse To shut off the ganja and control the juice To control the juice So you wanna go crazy? Then let's go crazy So take it on crazy! So they get all crazy Bricks and bottles corrugated iron Shields and helmets carnival time 'N moa ambassa, sledgehammer sound Ray symbolic from jamdown town |
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If Music Could Talk< | ||
*Left Channel* Make sure! Taking cover in the bunker tonight Waiting for Bo Diddley's headlights I feel alright Gotta Fender Stratosphere I can do anything tonight It's in neon lights an' global rights Frank? He's on the phone There ain't no German girl outside But who cares when its warm inside? With music Special mystery of music tragically Exchanging slaves for majesties Modern waves of tragedy Packing a to pience colt pair of shoots A shiny grey mexican suit The blue eyed traffic can sashay by 'Cos tonight the sailor boys have hit Shanghai The kick-out traffic goes creaking by I smash my glass and shout shanghi My drummer friend comes shooting by He said Errol Flynn will never die Oh no! Who am I to question why? And are you lonesome tonight And do ya need a country cowboy Who's just thin and tight in those Brrrr bus depot jeans With a squirt resistant stud stud Hey stoner Get over there in the spliffbunker one Becos London Bridge was sold somehow But it was too old anyhow When Uncle Sam has broken down We'll make him down in old Japan Say yeee Well there ain't no better blend Than Joe Ely and his Texas Men Where the wind blows I ain't seen none like that scenery You can see from a bus if you pay the price Wave my arms around Flag one of those taxi's maybe I saw a girl somewhere somehow Forever sticks in my mind somehow I've just got three lines And a pair of two's Like a lucky roll of dice that you You cast *Right Channel* If music could talk! Which means Whatever your mind can bring Likethe apple fell off the tree Pah! Fell right on his head Yeah many years ago There was a man who said I am a shaman A voodoo shaman Got in trouble so he's going out Mixing up and Haiti! Oh! And the crickets Buddy Holly said it was Brrr Brrr yiii! If music could talk you know I feel kinda lonely Standing out on the floor Of Electric Ladyland... Cos this is a good question Samson Are you partly Arabic? Chi man! Whatcho all about I don't want to I can't hope to Say it all in one go Occasionally once or twice A day I feel alive enough to say Let's hear what the drummerman's Got to say about He said is it Errol Flynn's birthday or not? Sept 12 until October If they pack 2 piece Colt pair of shoots We got the shiny grey Mexican suits I'm just wasting a great big Corporation and the entire fund The girders of Wall Street And thetemples of money And the high priests Of the expense account And Im wasting the whole thing I come down in Yamaha-ha They make the best pianos-time to step-up |
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The Sound Of Sinners | ||
As the floods of God Wash away sin city They say it was written In the page of the Lord But I was looking For that great jazz note That destroyed The walls of Jericho The winds of fear Whip away the sickness The messages on the tablet Was valium As the planets form That golden cross Lord I'll see you on The holy cross roads After all this time To believe in Jesus After all those drugs I thought I was Him After all my lying And a-crying And my suffering I ain't good enough I ain't clean enough To be Him The tribal wars Burning up the homeland The fuel of evil Is raining from the sky The sea of lava Flowing down the mountain The time will sleep Us sinners by Holy rollers roll Give generously now Pass the hubcap please Thank you Lord |
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Police On My Back | ||
Well I'm running police on my back I've been hiding police on my back There was a shooting police on my back And the victim well he wont come back What have I done? I been running monday tuesday wednesday Thursday friday saturday sunday runnin monday tuesday wednesday thursday friday Saturday sunday Yes, I'm running down the railway track Could you help me? Police on my back They will catch me if I dare drop back Wont you give me all the speed I lack |
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Midnight Log | ||
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 do his work so fine He'll remember you Worried for my friend As he shows me round the flat Where I don't wanna find him His lips an' eyelids black He don't believe my speech That lines can and should be drawn Lke if he had a shotgun The barrels would be sawn Swallowed by the river Swollen by the rains That leakin' ol' computer Of fingerprints and names Swimming in the river That floods the neighborhood I would call to you But it would do no good Voting for the law That's the general occupation First comes the public safety Second comes the nation You won't believe me now But there's been some illumination The wisest cops have realized They fucked the operation Cooking up the books A respected occupation The anchor and foundation of multi-corporations They don't believe in crime They don't know that it exists But to understand What's right and wrong The lawyers work in shifts 'N speaking of the devil He ain't been seen for years 'Cept every 20 mins He zooms between me ears I don't believe in books But I read all the time For ciphers to the riddles An' reasons to the rhymes |
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The Equaliser | ||
No! Gangboss no! We don't want the whip! As you get weaker - it will get harder So don't be like him Keep your bones of effort and strngth Don't sell them to him We don't want no gangboss We want to equalize To my fathers fathers fathers father Work was no joy When his son had grown of age You got to work now boy Never ceasing for many years Want to follow that boy? Till half and half is equalized Put down the tools See the car see the house See the fabulous jewels See the world you have built it with shoulders of iron See the world but it is not yours say the stealers of Zion Geneva Wall Street Who makes them so fat? Well well me an' you better think about that In overdrive whooo Till humanize is equalize Put down the tools Every face on every side Throw down the tools Stay at home Don't check with Rome paint strike on the door It's one to one the fight is on so don't go to war We don't need no gangboss We have to equalize |
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THE CALL UP | ||
It's up to you not to heed the call-up 'N' you must not act the way you were brought up Who knows the reasons why you have grown up? Who knows the plans or why they were drawn up? It's up to you not to heed the call-up I don't wanna die! It's up to you not to hear the call-up I don't wanna kill! For he who will die Is he who will kill Maybe I wanna see the wheatfields Over Kiev and down to the sea It's up to you not to heed the call-up I don't wanna die! It's up to you not to hear the call-up I don't wanna kill! All the young people down the ages They gladly marched off to die Proud city fathers used to watch them Tears in their eyes It's up to you not to heed the call-up I don't wanna die! It's up to you not to hear the call-up I don't wanna kill! There is a rose that I want to live for Although, God knows, I may not have met her There is a dance an' I should be with her There is a town - unlike any other It's up to you not to hear the call-up 'N' you must not act the way you were brought up Who give you work an' why should you do it? At fifty five minutes past eleven There is a rose... Yeah! |
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Washington Bullets | ||
Oh! Mama, Mama look there! Your children are playing in that street again Don't you know what happened down there? A youth of fourteen got shot down there The Kokane guns of Jamdown Town The killing clowns, the blood money men Are shooting those Washington bullets again As every cell in Chile will tell The cries of the tortured men Remember Allende, and the days before, Before the army came Please remember Victor Jara, In the Santiago Stadium, Es verdad - those Washington Bullets again And in the Bay of Pigs in 1961, Havana fought the playboy in the Cuban sun, For Castro is a colour, Is a redder than red, Those Washington bullets want Castro dead For Castro is the colour... ...That will earn you a spray of lead For the very first time ever, When they had a revolution in Nicaragua, There was no interference from America Human rights in America Well the people fought the leader, And up he flew... With no Washington bullets what else could he do? 'N' if you can find a Afghan rebel That the Moscow bullets missed Ask him what he thinks of voting Communist... ...Ask the Dalai Lama in the hills of Tibet, How many monks did the Chinese get? In a war-torn swamp stop any mercenary, 'N' check the British bullets in his armoury Que? Sandinista! |
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Broadway | ||
"It ain't my fault It's 6 'o'clock in the morning" He said As he came up 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 been in the ring and I took those right hooks Oh the loneliness Used to knock me out - harder than the rest And I've worked for breakfast 'N I ain't had no lunch I been on delivery and received every punch 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 runnin' in an out of the bars Someone stopped for a pick-up driving one of those cars Y'see I allways wanted one of those cars Long black 'n shiny an' pull up to the bars Honk your horn, put down your windows, push yer button, Hear it coming in You can say I can see the light... roll! Forward! Drive! Green lights! Green lights! Intersection city coming a running comeback home I run back Not that strong now Yes who's there now, can I help you? Calling Intel station light Did you put your money in? Yes I put it in It say go, I say go, she say go, so we say go Cos I can see the light all night tonight this night right now Coming on forward motion across the ocean An' up the hills yeh boys let's strike for the hills While that petrol tank is full Gimme a push gimme a pull Gimme a llama gimme a mule Gimme a donkey or gimme a horse Down the avenue So fine In style |
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Lose This Skin | ||
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 skin I'm imprisoned in Got to lose this skin I'm imprisoned in Do not turn or hate to see All the things you think we've got Do not turn or hate to see What happened to the wife of Lot We're alone or so they say We're not on our own in that way When we're alone it's real tough going We can take a part in someone else's play Come with me, I thought he said But that's not him anymore, he's dead What's it like to be so free So free it looks like lost to me |
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Charlie don't surf | ||
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 be a napalm star Everybody wants to rule the world Must be something we get from birth One truth is we never learn Satellites will make space burn We've been told to keep the strangers out We don't like them all over town Across the world we are going to blow them down 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 be a napalm star The reign of the super powers must be over So many armies can't free the earth Soon the rock will roll over Africa is choking on their Coca Cola There's a one way street in a one horse town A lot of one way people starting to brag around You can laugh, put them down These one way people gonna blow us down 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 be a napalm star Charlie don't surf he'll never learn Charlie don't surf though he's got a gun Charlie don't surf think that he should Charlie don't surf we really think he should Charlie don't surf 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 don't surf |
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Mensforth Hill | ||
no lyrics
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Junkie Slip | ||
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 rhythm when the junkies hang around Thought I'd go out walking to the junkie kind of beat Setting on those bars that the junkies meet The junkie slip! Nail it down The junkie slip! This side of town The junkie slip! And whatcha knowing before you's a doin The things they's a-knowing You pawn your coat and your car Pawned your cigar and your old guitar You pawned your guitar and your saxaphone You're pawning everything in your mother's home Cos it's a junkie slip! Just like rock n' roll A junkie slip! Like Johnnny did the stroll And you know it feels alright But what's that feeling on a Saturday night? You're itching itching itching in your pillow in the day You're itching itching itching and you gave your coat away Itching itching itching and then in your sleeping bag There's a little packet that youthought you never had It's a junkie slip! Every night Junkie slip! Cold water fright It's a junkie slip And an old spoon cooky cooky cooky kooky afternoon All afternoon and in the middle of the night You're worse for the difference and it don't sleep tight Don't pull the curtains fon't put on the light C-c-c-cos it's a junkie slip! What's goin' on? Was early night I lit the fire Finish alright Yeh Edi-Edi-Edi-Yeh Edi-Juan Him going to live with indian Come in the car, it's an old machine Riding from Brookway on a magazine Be on that corner with a magazine Do ya do ya do ya follow your friends? Do I hear you saying that you're going back again? It's a junkie slip! Where? Did it end? But did it ah did it did it ever end? When did it ever end? Don't ask me when on a Wednesday night Don't ask me when on a Thrusday night I said oh? Who the hell are you? You said oh! Well you met me I said I can guess why |
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Kingston Advice | ||
In these days you can get no rice No razor blades but you can get knife In these days see the people run They have no food but the boy have gun In these days they don't throw the stone Nor use the voice they use the gun alone In these days to be an oddity Be hunted down like a scarcity In these days don't beg for life Wanna take Kingston advice? Oh please don't beg for your life In these days the beat is militant Must be a clash there's no alternative In these days nations are militant We have slavery under government In these days in the firmament I look for signs that are permanent In these days with no love to give The world will turn with no one left to live In these days I don't know what to do The more I see the more I'm destitute In these days I don't know what to sing The more I know the less my tune can swing In these days you can get no rice No razor blades but you can get knife In these days see the people run They have no food but the boy have gun |
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The Street Parade | ||
When I was waiting for your phonecall The one that never came Like a man about to burst I was dying of thirst Though I will never fade Or get lost in this daze Though I will disappear Into the street parade It's not too hard to cry In these crying times I'll take a broken heart And take it home in parts But I will never fade I was in this place By the first church of the city I saw tears on the face The face of a visionary Though I will disappear To join the street parade Disappear and fade Into the street parade |
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Version City | ||
There is a train at Version City Waiting for the rhythm mail If you can jump then jump right now She can pull you through to better days Is that the train that the speak off The one I heard in my younger days All great bluesmen have rode her I'm jumping up gonna ride that train There's a lonely soul out on the crossroads He's waiting there in the pouring rain He's looking for that great ride yeh That'll take him to oh what's her name So I rode that train from Version City For ninety-nine an' one half days Never heard such rhythm sound It was in my soul which was on the train We went straight through Syndrum Inc. Up an' over the Acapella Pass Then Gibson Town and Fenderville All stations to the Mesa Boogie Ranch We saw that soul out on the cross roads Waitin' there in the pouring rain We called hey engine slow your rhythms See he wants to ride the version train We rode that train from Version City For ninety-nine and one half years I never seen such funky country While riding with the engineers Could not fill no application Before I rode this rhythm train Could not work at my station Before I rode the version train There is a train at Version City Waiting for the rhythm mail If you can jump then jump right now She can pull you through to better days |
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Living in Fame | ||
So you've got to live up to your name Or else I'll put you to shame... Listen! If you say you a selector You a fe have good selection A-and I say if you say you a de special Man I say I want to know your potential You a say you a madness You a say you a de best But when 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 sweeter And now-a-days man a measure mile in a metre, eh! Live up to your name Or else you die in shame A-and a so me say fe live up to your name A so me tell you say you die in shame Some a dem a bodysnatcher Some a dem a barracuda, eh! But who a know fe me Jah Jah Fe me Jah a me creator, eh! Flying saucers, rock-and-roll Natty Dread a fe be in control It's all in the whirlwind I say you've gone with the blockhead A-and I say me say dat some a dem a Sex Pistol Nipple erectors A so me tell you set dem sp...(?) man a gone An...(?) farm(?) And I'll tell you 'bout the X-generation... Me know dem a victimed 'Cause dem no know fe me sweet Jah Jah, eh! Clash a you ruler Say a Clash sound cooler A-and I tell you say a Clash sound sweeter And now-a-days man measure mile in a metre A none a dem deh measure gallon in a litre And I tell you say me know dem a cheat ya 'Cause when you living inna fame You got to live up to your name Or else a suffer and you die inna shame And I tell you say it's all in the game, eh! Some a say dem a selector Dem a fe have good selection Or else deh moving in the wrong direction And deh no know dis a reggae vibration A-and a so me say a Clash a you ruler And dis ya one a say it a musically cooler, eh! Me say fe live up to your name Or else you suffer and you die inna shame 'Cause when you living inna fame A so me tell you say it's all in the game And so me talkin' about Specials and Madness beats, Big body snatcher, (?), eh! Flying saucers, rock-and-roll See you gone in the whirlwind A-and I tell you say, a you a de blockhead And some will tell you dat you dreader than dread And a-some a say a Clash a you ruler See a Clash sound cooler, aaaye! Clash sound sweeter Man a measure mile in a metre, eh! When you living inna fame You got to live up to your name Or else you suffer and you die inna shame It's all in the game, eh! This is the game of life We no wa' no strife Game of life We no wa' no strife, no no Don't, no no no no F*ckin' hell Mickey |
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Silicone On Sapphire | ||
Have you ever asked yourself Who holds the key that winds up Big Ben? Right Channel: Silicone on Sapphire Left Channel: Connection R: My prerogative is zero L: When is your start L: What is your data R: Databus L: Databus R: I'm pushing your breakpoints L: [Anytime Mike](?) R: Know my subroutine L: Motorola exor(?)sizer R: Modem connecting L: In sync R: Buffer R: Handshaking L: Throughput R: Mnemonic code L: I have your sentences right L: Go ahead R: Macro command L: Yes R: This is my micro instruction L: Improper request L: Output failed R: Request debug L: Improper request R: Request debug L: System debug freeze R: Your memory is volatile L: Freeze R: Log(?), add this is my address bus L: Log add R: Kill L: Kill R: (?) L: (?) R: Rub out L: You're on system interconnect L: You are typing into my memory L: Shift, shift, shift R: That's better R: Now my decoder R: I request your zero variable storage L: I am a Texas Instrument R: Clear, overrun L: My zero positive R: Truth table L: Connection R: Give me your input L: Vector interrupt R: Erase function L: Vector interrupt R: Go to RAM, Go to RAM L: Go yourself R: Go to RAM L: I [take it back](?) R: Your memory is volitile R: Your inputs, are deprived L: Save, save R: Erase [bridge](?) R: Go to outputs L: Large scale integration R: No source statements L: Give me, give me flowchart R: All [died on call](?) databus L: Hardware, firmware L: Inhibit, inhibit, overflow R: Yes. Hardwired logic. Machine language L: Connection deprived by request, request L: Parallel operation L: Give me push count stack L: I must have your address first L: Take your datalog recharge L: Hello, hello R: System debug freeze R: Clear restore and exit R: Exit all done |
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Version Pardner | ||
Down the road came a Junco Partner For he was loaded as can be He was knocked out, knocked out loaded He was a'wobblin' all over the street Singing six Six Well I wish I would have me a great deal of money Yeah and a-mighty Give me Down Junco Partner Well I'm down |
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Career Opportunities | ||
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 really wanna be a cop? Career opportunities are the ones that never knock Every job they offer you is to keep you out the dock Career opportunity, the ones that never knock I hate the army an' I hate the RAF I don't wanna go fighting in the tropical heat I hate the civil service rules And I won't open letter bombs for you Bus driver...Ambulance man...Ticket inspector They're gonna have to introduce conscription They're gonna have to take away my prescription If they wanna get me making toys If they wanna get me, well, I got no choice Career Career Career Ain't never gonna knock |
奴らは俺に事務所で働けという BBCでお茶でもしたいかい? 本当に警官なんかになりたいのかい? 出世のチャンスは向こうからはやってこない 来る仕事はお前を波止場の外に追いやるものばかり 出世のチャンスは向こうからはやってこない 陸軍は嫌い、英国空軍も嫌い 猛暑の中、戦闘に行きたくなんかない 俺は兵役が嫌いだ お前宛の郵便爆弾なんか開けないぜ バスドライバー、救急隊員、改札係 もし奴らが俺をよくしてくれるのなら、俺に選択の余地はない | |
Shepherds Delight | ||
no lyrics
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★ | |||||
白い暴動 The Clash [UK] |
白い暴動 The Clash [US] |
動乱 Give'em Enough Rope |
ロンドンコーリング LONDON CALLING |
サンディニスタ! SANDINISTA! |
コンバットロック COMBAT ROCK |
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