Well its nineteen ninety seven just about a quarter past eleven

Nobody sits at home cause the rocks about to roll


The citgo sign with its neon fire is fryin' all the suits

While they're snortin' business up their nose we're scuffin' up our boots

The downtown beat pours onto the street of the ground level

Skeleton nation, but the high brow cannot hear it cause they

Ain't tuned into the station. All the common kids down on Comm. Ave have quite a lot to say but there ain't an ear to listen

'Cause their turn is so far away



Another kid with a broken heart

And an old beat up six string guitar

Last train stop better get off

At the end of an era

Ghetto blast goes one two three four

If you're sick of being poor

And the rebel beat beats on

At the end of an era

The elder ghosts are in the square

As johnny fresh cut chops off his hair

Butchy's black dreads flow all over town

As black souls jive to the reggae sound

When black and white dance together all night

It ain't gonna make the papers

When red blood fell from black and white lips

They pinned it ghetto hatred

The Mission Hill kids have got a mission

Its called stayin' alive

Its the calm before the storm

In an ethnic jail tonight

All right ready to prowl?

Hey I seen it man

They come from every walk of life

From every edge of town

They got gasoline in their veins

Best walk on the other side of the street man

They got venom eyes

The Mission Hill kids, the Savin Hill pack

The Cambridge campers, the Sommerville house

The Charlestown town boys, suburban youth

They're idlin' high

They're blendin' in with the bricks

I know you seen us before

I've seen you ignore us

But we don't forget a face man

And we don't soon forgive...

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