(Rob Hirst)



In this city with no footpath

There's a building with no people

There is crime and gun decisions



There's a street of heat and hawkers

There's a house of hope and drifters

There's a gang that shoots then listens



There's a place that knows no poverty

A town without pollution

There's a soul with good intentions



there are canyons full of movie stars

Churches made of metal

There are mountains made of muscle



We have leaders who are anxious

We have captains not courageous

Captains tumbling into madness



But there's a man who makes no enemies

A body never breathless

No ambition ever hopeless



CHORUS

Up on Bedlam Bridge somebody is waiting

Up on Bedlam Bridge I'm shot to heaven

Oh

Up on Bedlam Bridge

Waiting



In these locked and shackled neighbourhoods

Bridge and tunnel diplomats

See the golden ghetto's creeper



Crazy flags from history

Songs for the White House gangsters

Guns for hellgate railway sleepers



But there's a man who makes no enemies

A body never breathless

No ambition ever hopeless



So how stands the city on this winter's night?

The city on the hill or so they said

The snow is falling down around the armoury

The city's closing in around my head



CHORUS



Drive

Drive the engines harder

Drive



Drive

Won't you turn the engines over

Drive

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