In this city with no footpath theres a building with no people
There is crime and gun decisions
Theres a street of heat and hawkers, theres a house of hope drifters
Theres a gang that shoots then listens
Theres a place that knows no poverty, a town without pollution
Theres a soul with good intentions
There are canyons full of movie stars, churches made of metal
There are mountains made of muscle
We have leaders who are anxious, we have captains not courageous
Captains tumbling into madness
But theres a main who makes no enemies, a body never breathless
No ambition ever hopeless

Up on bedlam bridge somebody is waiting
Up on bedlam bridge Im shot to heaven
Oh, up on bedalm bridge, waiting

In these locked and shackled neighbourhoods, bridge and tunnel diplomats
See the golden ghettos creeper
Crazy flags from history, songs for the white house gangsters
Guns for hellgate railway sleepers
But theres a main who makes no enemies, a body never breathless
No ambition ever hopeless
So how stands the city on this winters night?
The city on the hill or so they said
The snow is falling down around the armoury
The citys closing in around my head

Up on bedlam bridge...

Drive, wont you drive the engines harder, drive
Drive, wont you turn the engines over, drive

(hirst)

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