Crime Party

Boots on the concrete Gold under their feet Crisp crease and a double pleat Bouncing to the beat Boots on the concrete Mayhem on Main Street Two stepping as a fleet The command of the downbeat Hear the boots on the concrete Smell the blooms on the palm tree Feel the breeze in the desert heat Get lost in the sound of the oil rig We caught you dancing In all the wrong places We caught you dancing In all the wrong places Boots on the concrete More gold under their feet Wash, rinse, repeat The command of the downbeat Hear the boots on the concrete Smell the blooms on the palm tree Feel the breeze in the desert heat Always bouncing to the beat Watch the boots on the concrete Take the fruit of the palm tree Feel the breeze in the desert heat Leave with the sound of the oil rig We caught you dancing In all the wrong places We caught you dancing In all the wrong places We caught you dancing In all the wrong places Boots on the concrete Echo down Main Street Rhythm is law in a war state Machine reinstalled Blind faith above all A new song, a dancehall, a reprobate You're hearing the call Come one, come all Gnashing and gnawing on bitter bait They caught you, you're kneeling Now they're reeling You're stuck in it's wake Playing on the right beat, the wrong drum Singing in the right key, the wrong song Techno-Authority Playing on the right beat, the wrong drum Singing in the right key, the wrong song Techno-Authority You know how little it matters Who's on the throne You know how little it matters Who will take control Sowing fear for a flower Sewing fear for thread on a loom It's wilted and it's fraying When fear's shaped for the fruit of the bloom A song for a dancer The beat like a cancer A flower put on display For the willing fleet You know how little it matters Who's on the throne You know how little it matters Who will take control You know how little it matters Who's on the throne You know how little it matters Who will take control And your fear looked like a flower And your fear looked like thread on a loom You're wilted and you're fraying And your fear looked like Hooked on, repeat it As if it's truth A hand out of view of you What they're feeding isn't food A lure set for you They're calling it proof They'll convince you Falling Voices calling without a face A treaty for ceasefire A signal out of range Added fuel to the pyre Ran out the race Nothing counts but first place Victory by a landslide There's a lot of clean boots around these parts A children's crusade Caught in indiscriminate fire Stuck with this malaise It's a haze I can't get out of