作词 : Harris, Tatler
The words of freedom on the tongue of a snake 
With a democratic face bought and paid for by the lies of the state 
Without a human trait well under the heels of a tyranny waits 
A long forgotten voice 
And revolution is the ultimate fate of the whip and the gun 
Nowhere to run is nothing like fun 
Out in the heat, 
Wild on the streets 
Wild on the streets, wild on the streets 
People listen to the words of a friend 
To lie you have to breath 
Television hey tell it again 
The people pay no heed 
We want equality but what do we get 
Bullets and ballots again 
Roll in your grave 
Beethoven and the death beat marches on 
Nowhere to run is nothing like fun 
Out in the heat, 
Wild on the streets 
Wild on the streets, wild on the streets 
On leather jackets and broken chain 
In walls of mortar and ties 
These are the words of our fate inscribed 
Standing twelve feet high 
Here are the free men who inherit the earth 
Here are the words that died 
Buried under six feet of dirt and the death beat marches on 
Nowhere to run is nothing like fun 
Out in the heat, 
Wild on the streets 
Wild on the streets, wild on the streets