It's that summer of the evening Get ready and roll the ca**ette There's boys outside preaching genocide And trying to think up some sort of threat And the ladies in the cloakroom Take no notice of me I wish myself was back at home But there's nothing safe in watching TV There's something born tomorrow That I lost when I was out for a drink How many gangs is it gonna take To change the way I think? It takes more than good intentions And a big bloke on the door And though it's never the same after the first time That doesn't stop them coming back for more Fighting in the dance halls happens anyway Sometimes it makes me stop and think Sometimes it makes me turn away Sometimes it makes me stop and think Sometimes it makes me turn away Sometimes it makes me stop and think But most times, it makes me run away