Panic on the streets of London Panic on the streets of Birmingham I wonder to myself Could life ever be sane again On the Leeds side streets that you slip down I wonder to myself. Hope's may rise under Grasmeres But honeypie, you're not safe here So you run down To the safety of the town. But there's panic on the streets of Carlisle, Dublin, Dundee, Humberside I wonder to myself. Burn down the disco, Hang the blessed D.J., Because the music that they constantly play, It says nothing to me about my life, Hang the blessed D.J., Because the music that they constantly play, On the Leeds side streets that you slip down, On the provincial towns you jog round, Hang the D.J., hang the D.J., hang the D.J. Hang the D.J., hang the D.J., hang the D.J. Hang the D.J., hang the D.J., hang the D.J. Hang the D.J., hang the D.J., Hang the D.J., hang the D.J., Hang the D.J., hang the D.J., hang the D.J. Hang the D.J., hang the D.J.,
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