The Clash - Broadway | Текст песни

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• The Clash
• 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
You used to knock me out harder than the rest
And I've worked for breakfast and I ain't had no lunch
I been on delivery and received every punch

And 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
And someone stopped for a pick-up, driving one of those cars

Ya 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 another button and hear it coming in

You can say, I can see the light

Oh, 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
Knock out
See the light
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Go, go, go
It say, \"Go\"
I say, \"Go\"
She say, \"Go\"
So we say, \"Go\"
'Cause 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
Gimme a push
Gimme a pull
Gimme a llama
Gimme a mule
Gimme a donkey or gimme a horse

Down the avenue
Down the avenue
So fine
In time
In style

When 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 us
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 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 us
Oh, the guns of Brixton
Oh, the guns of Brixton
That's enough now
I'm tiered of singing

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