|
I have my |
|
Brixton briefcase, from across the pond |
|
London's burning, but the beat the goes on |
|
Feel my power, the electrical life |
|
Real rude boys, own the town tonight |
|
And we don't need no fighting, all these beautiful birds around |
|
The liquor touch like lightning, as soon as the sun goes down |
|
Turn it on |
|
Oh, turn it on |
|
Turn it on |
|
Oh, turn it on |
|
I got a Brixton briefcase, |
|
Ministry of |
|
Sound The walls between us, they could tear them down |
|
It's a Brixton briefcase, that's such a sin |
|
Blokes get spat on, they get a |
|
Chelsea grin |
|
Whoa, do you hear the chorus |
|
Smile and sing along |
|
Shake your arse for me, mamma |
|
They're playing your favorite song |
|
Turn it on |
|
Oh, turn it on |
|
Turn it on |
|
Oh, turn it on |
|
Worn off records, nothing soft |
|
Turn it a bit louder, tell |
|
Old Bill "**** off" |
|
To all my family, and all my friends |
|
Have to ride that train, or then wait to the ends |
|
Oh, aren't you a nosy little neighbor, pretending to be posh |
|
Burning the music won't save us, only a wine coloured citric wash |
|
Get on Get it on, get on |
|
Get it on |
|
Turn it on |
|
I got a Brixton briefcase |
|
Feel my power |
|
I got a Brixton briefcase |
|
Feel my power |
