(The Clash)
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The panorama of the city is wrong
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In fact the city seems to be gone!
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Burning rubber and smoke in my eyes
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There's a flat burning junkheap
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For twenty square miles!
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They took it into the nuclear mine
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Judging by this, they left nothing behind
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Down in the bunkers in the crust of the earth
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Now crouch the wealthy and the noble of birth
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If I could a ride a train around the city
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That holds this as our fate
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I'd hide from electro-circuit central
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To the shock inducer gate
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Not forgetting the by-pass
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Across the washington hooks
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Through the phones and desks and screens
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Of the kremlin's crook of crooks
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There's some panel in a circuit board
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Destination of the override
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Scanning the wild wind
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Blowing through the berlin corridor
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Spotlit in a palace, shielded from dust
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Malfunction or not, the failsafe is the crux
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So far away from us,
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Shaking with the mystery tears
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One lonely night in ladbroke grove
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Far away in the deserts of omaha!
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They got it nailed down-swiss tight!
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The bank notes of europe
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The emperors and kings
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Curl in the autumn as the burning of leaves
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And I've cleaned my black guitar...
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Stop The World
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| The Clash |
