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?"