Off into the orient on the road towards the heat
With Mr. Vinyl turning on the road towards the east
Straight ways don't run sideways running off towards the sun
You hear nothing from your logic clock

Run Rudy run
Run Rudy run
Run Rudy run
Run Rudy run

Hit the inner city before the main man hits the town
Spent our cash on looking flash and heavy job job sound
The clubs have turned their banters on the drunken lawless crowd
You hear nothing from your logic clock

Juvenile delinquents given sentences of gold
We push for radio city reach our drat and nasty goal
Cups are gettin' empty the boys are getting old
You hear nothing from your logic clock

Silence in the city on the night before the crash
The cops have sold their ? in the diamond ? bash
The clubs have turned their goon squad on the drunken struggling mass
Nothing from your logic clock

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