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Every night |
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In Jungletown |
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All the boogies in the street |
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Radios turned up very loud |
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Playin' Dancing Queen |
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They love our music |
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This English girl from the North somewhere |
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Is stayin' with me at my place |
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Drinkin' up all my beer |
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Talkin' about the poor niggers all the time |
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It's a real disgrace, she says |
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I tell her, Darling, don't talk about things |
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You don't understand |
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I tell her, Darling, don't talk about something |
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You don't know anything about |
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I tell her, Darling, if you don't like it here |
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Go back to your own miserable country |
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It's Christmas in Cape Town but it ain't the same |
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Oh, the boys on the beach are still blowin' |
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And the summer wind still kicks the clouds around |
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You know my little brother, babe |
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Well, he works out at the diamond mine |
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I drove him out there at five this mornin' |
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The niggers were waitin' in a big long line |
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You know those big old lunch pails they carry, man |
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With a picture of Star Wars painted on the side |
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They were starin' at us real hard with |
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Their big ugly yellow eyes |
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You could feel it |
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You could feel it |
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It's Christmas in Cape Town but it ain't the same |
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The stores are open all the time |
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And little kids on skateboards cut in and out of the crowd |
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And the Christmas lights still shine |
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Myself, I don't like to drink the way |
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I used to, man, you know |
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It don't seem to get me high |
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And the beer don't taste the way it |
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Ought to taste somehow |
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And I don't know why |
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Don't talk to me about the planes |
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Man, I've heard it |
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Just take a look around |
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What are we gonna do, blow up |
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The whole damn country? |
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I don't know |
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It's Christmas in Cape Town |
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It's Christmas in Cape Town |
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It's Christmas in Cape Town |
