Walking down the street
From St. Mary to St. John
People keep their heads down
All dipp'd in their thoughts
They parked the child in the nursery
Now they're going back to work
While their wives at the office
Are showing off their thong
The pubs haven't closed down yet
But there's no music left to play
You need to ask for permits
Get a license, even paying
In the evening people stay at home
Watching telly contest shows
On weekend they spend all the day
At the local malls
B.A. city
B.A. city
I hate you from the bottom of my heart
But you're a part of me
B.A. city
B.A. city
I hate you from the bottom of my heart
But you're a part of me
They have built in every corner
Pouring concrete over fields
The bushes where we used to play
Are just a memory
There is nothing much left
But architectural filth
Oh my God what have they done
To the town where I was born
B.A. city
B.A. city
I hate you from the bottom of my heart
But you're a part of me
B.A. city
B.A. city
I hate you from the bottom of my heart
But you're a part of me
These streets have seen the civil war
And a town brought to its knees
They have seen the mother's tears
While burying our slain
Now the old men are few
But the youngsters grew
And they forget the lessons of the past
B.A. city
B.A. city
I hate you from the bottom of my heart
But you're a part of me
B.A. city
B.A. city
I hate you from the bottom of my heart
But you're a part of me