| With a democratic face bought and paid for by the lies of the state
|
| Without a human trait well under the heels of a tyranny waits
|
| A long forgotten voice
|
| And revolution is the ultimate fate of the whip and the gun
|
| Nowhere to run is nothing like fun
|
| Out in the heat, Wild on the streets
|
| Wild on the streets, wild on the streets
|
| People listen to the words of a friend
|
| To lie you have to breath
|
| Television hey tell it again
|
| The people pay no heed
|
| We want equality but what do we get
|
| Bullets and ballots again
|
| Roll in your grave Beethoven and the death beat marches on
|
| Nowhere to run is nothing like fun
|
| Out in the heat, Wild on the streets
|
| Wild on the streets, wild on the streets
|
| On leather jackets and broken chain
|
| In walls of mortar and ties
|
| These are the words of our fate inscribed
|
| Standing twelve feet high
|
| Here are the free men who inherit the earth
|
| Here are the words that died
|
| Buried under six feet of dirt and the death beat marches on
|
| Nowhere to run is nothing like fun
|
| Out in the heat, Wild on the streets
|
| Wild on the streets, wild on the streets |