hit the message i can hear you calling
no one’s going anywhere tonight
we conceived a modern generation
it was free but now we pay the price
we’re the victims of our own creation
chasing rainbows that are painted black or white
watch the struggle of our own temptation
instincts barely keeping us alive
back to the rhythm that we all came from
voices of babylon streets of london
back to the people that we know so well
a space in time removed too soon to tell
just a product of imagination
patiently we wait for our turn to come
a small collection of the population
by the time our number’s up we could be gone
back to the rhythm that we all came from
voices of babylon streets of london
back to the people that we know so well
a space in time removed too soon to tell
back to the rhythm that we all came from
voices of babylon streets of london town
Artist: The Outfield
Year: 1989
Decade: 80s
Language: en
Word Count: 83