Mean Streets

Mean
Streets

It’s not easy outside, looking
in-Never being part of things, they say that we have sinned. We
stand alone, those precious few, they know that we won’t
hide. We’re surrounded by Red mobs, and police who take
their side.

We’re out on the mean streets, out in the city.
We’re out on the mean streets, everywhere.
We’re out on the mean streets, out in the city.
We’re out on the mean streets, the fighting is there.


What’s that smell, what’s this hell,
it’s democracy. Who owns the press? We can guess now the
ones with the money. One man one vote but still they gloat, the
media has control. Three party state decides our fate and the TV
owns our soul.

We’re out on the mean streets, out
in the city. We’re out on the mean streets, everywhere.
We’re out on the mean streets, out in the city.
We’re out on the mean streets, the fighting is there.


We’re attacked behind our backs now we’re doing
all we can. If the knife should take our life, at least we never
ran. We know the Reds are in the beds, police tucked by their
sides. The real scum are the ones who run, and once we believed
their lies.

We’re out on the mean streets, out
in the city. We’re out on the mean streets, everywhere.
We’re out on the mean streets, out in the city.
We’re out on the mean streets, the fighting is there.