Our Town

In our town, murders, happen everyday When the temperature, rises they open the hydrants, and let the children play In our town, friday, is payroll day The taverns open, the sun goes down, the neon signs make a grand display In our town, murders, happen everyday There are whores walking the streets They ain't pretty and they ain't cheap We've got cops walking the beat Stopping all the strangers they meet Tn our town, martyrs, hang from the gallows pole Newsboys cry on every corner, some high and mighty, has been brought low In our town, friends, gather on the boulevard The merchants are fat and happy, the beggar's life is hard In our town, martyrs, hang in the gallows yard

There are guns, guns - banging on the door of flesh There are guns, guns - the fire and smoke scratch my breath There are guns, guns - and empty eyes staring up in death There are guns, guns - banging on the door of flesh in our town

Muezzins, call form the minarets Monks bow before their beggar bowls While christians smoke their cigarettes In our town, prophets, warn of a judgement day Young girls hang out of window sills, a flowery frame for their charms' display In our town, the river, smells of oil and shit A hundred cranes stand in the harbour, loading a hundred ships In our town a thousand tongues speak from a thousand lips We've got whores walking the streets Stopping all the strangers they meet We've got cops walking the beat They ain't pretty and they ain't cheap In our town, the skyline, is like a mountain range The streets are wind swept canyons, the central park is a grassy plain In our town, the saints, smile down on festival days In tropical plumage, the black girls dance for the king of the big parade In our town, the bosses, curse the working man Husbands curse their wives, and then they raise their hands

There are guns, guns - banging on the door of flesh There are guns, guns - the fire and smoke scratch my breath There are guns, guns - and empty eyes staring up in death There are guns, guns - banging on the door of flesh in our town

In our town the sirens answer to 911 Another soul is flying free from another mother's son In our town, the bodies, are cremated by the riverside Up to the morning sun they rise The flames, the smoke, the widow's cries A stain of ashes, soot and sparks upon the dawning, rosy light In our town, the skyline, looks down upon the riverside In our town...