(Paul Simonon)



When they kick at your front door

How you gonna come?

With your hands on your head

Or on the trigger of your gun



When the law break in

How you gonna go?

Shot down on the pavement

Or waiting on death row



You can crush us

You can bruise us

But you'll have to answer to

Oh, the guns of Brixton



The money feels good

And your life you like it well

But surely your time will come

As in heaven, as in hell



You see, he feels like Ivan

Born under the Brixton sun

His game is called survivin'

At the end of the harder they come



You know it means no mercy

They caught him with a gun

No need for the Black Maria

Goodbye to the Brixton sun



You can crush us

You can bruise us

But you'll have to answer to

Oh, the guns of Brixton



When they kick at your front door

How you gonna come?

With your hands on your head

Or on the trigger of your gun



You can crush us

You can bruise us

Yes, even shoot us

But oh-the guns of Brixton



Shot down on the pavement

Waiting in death row

His game is called survivin'

As in heaven as in hell



You can crush us

You can bruise us

But you'll have to answer to

Oh, the guns of Brixton