no one knows my politics like the postman he brings me the radical rag i bet the neighbours are wondering what i got in this bag they say the city virus broke its borders once again fell down the lane packed up and ran where the doors all lock at nine every creek is like cannonfire there s an old crooked man in an old crooked house he says i don t open up on all saints eve ya never know what devil might be waiting there to steal your tv as he sits there watching a story about another robbery he turns on a light to stave off thieves where the doors all lock at nine every creek is like cannonfire the world is sick i think its dying i watch it go through these dusty blinds alive in these houses locked inside there s blood on the door and candlelight night close your eyes and wish it bye call up the police to sing their lullabies late our hero john wayne put guns in our living rooms gates round our names give us a face to join up and hate keep tiny town pure and sane behind these bolts there s a brewing revolt and it rusts in every one of us so put a yellow ribbon on your exterminator and head westward across the tracks i got a dream where we all say see you later and never say we ll come back i m looking out the window down on citizens drive where all the elders are terrified will that be you and i 