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We went into town on the Tuesday night Searching all the places that you hang about We're looking for you In the back street cellar dive drinking clubs In the discotheques and the gaming pubs We're looking for you You will pay the price for my own sweet brother And what he has become And a hundred other boys and girls And all that you have done
We picked up the trail at the Seven Crowns One of your cronies, he was doing your rounds We followed him Just a silhouette figure up Market Pass Where the headlamps shine on the broken glass We followed him Over the bridge by the old canal Where the shadows dance on the lighted wall He stopped to light up a cigarette And we dived into a doorway
Ch: No police, no summons, no courts of law No proper procedure, no rules of war No mitigating circumstance No layers fees, no second chance
There are lasses getting trouble on their own home beat There are old folk battered in the open street In this city of hours There are eyes that see but say nothing at all There are ears that hear but they don't recall In this city of hours So we followed your man back to your front door And we're waiting for you outside 'Cause not everybody here is scared of you Not everybody passes on the other side
Ch: No police, no summons, no courts of law . . .
And we could spend our whole lives waiting for some thunderbolt to come And we could spend our whole lives waiting for some justice to be done Unless we make our own
Published by Attack Attack Music/Warner Chappell Music Ltd Sullivan / Heaton 1986 Zum Nachhören zum Beispiel hier entlang. Zur Homepage der Band.