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  



(Refrains) 



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