| There’s the rockabilly cats with their pomps real high
|
| Wearin' black drape coats, all real gone guys
|
| Cool skinheads with their rolled-up jeans
|
| Lookin' real tough and mighty mean
|
| There’s a rumble in Brighton tonight
|
| Ringside seats for the neighborhood fight
|
| There ain’t a damn thing that the cops can do
|
| There’s a rumble in Brighton tonight
|
| They sew fishhooks under their collars
|
| They got razors in their shoes
|
| I said, «Go cat go,» their battle cry
|
| World War III is startin' to brew
|
| Now the skinheads all use blackjacks
|
| And they’re lookin' mighty mean
|
| They got chains wrapped around their fingers
|
| And their heads are all shaved clean
|
| There’s a rumble in Brighton tonight
|
| Ringside seats for the neighborhood fight
|
| There ain’t a damn thing that the cops can do
|
| There’s a rumble in Brighton tonight
|
| Well, there ain’t a man left standin'
|
| So let’s all go get a beer
|
| No team is a winner
|
| So we’ll see you all next year
|
| There’s a rumble in Brighton tonight
|
| Ringside seats for the neighborhood fight
|
| There ain’t a damn thing that the cops can do
|
| There’s a rumble in Brighton tonight
|
| Rumble in Brighton tonight
|
| Rumble on the beach tonight
|
| Rumble in Brighton tonight
|
| Rumble on the beach tonight
|
| There ain’t a damn thing that the cops can do
|
| Line right up for a sideline view
|
| Ringside seats for the neighborhood fight
|
| There’s a rumble in Brighton tonight |