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?'