Good Friday

Good Friday in Dead City
Is no place to be
Good Friday in Dead City
Much worse than Calvary
Good Friday in Dead City is no place to be
It’s chock-a-block all day, deserted by nine or nine-thirty
Ask a policeman, «Can you tell me is there any bar open?»
We’ll be in prison, you tell them but they won’t listen
Why not stay home?
Why not stay home?
Uh-oh what a town, this town can really get you down
Oh what a state to be run by a senile clown
Pensioners don’t need to go all around the place in fear
You’re not so lucky if you happen to be a black or queer
Good Friday in Dead City
It’s no place to be
Good Friday in Dead City
Much worse than Calvary
Huh
Good Friday in Dead City is no place to be
Good Friday in Dead City is no place to be
Good Friday in Dead City is no place to be
Good Friday in Dead City is no place to be
Why not stay at home?
Why not stay home?
No, no, no
No, no, no, no, no, no
No, no
No, no, no
No, no, no, no, no, no
No, no
No, no, no
No, no, no, no, no, no
No, no
No, no, no
No, no, no, no, no, no