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?"