Text: Stiff Little Fingers. Inflammable Material. Here We Are Nowhere.

Friday night's here, what's the scene?
Nothing to do, you know what I mean?
Nothing on the telly, there is no late-night show
No shows in town, there is no place to go
Here we are nowhere, nowhere left to go

Is it a crime to be young?
'Cause every time we have some fun
They put us down and tell us that we're wrong
Every time they sing the same old song
Here we are nowhere, maybe that's where we belong

You know it's not but what they would do
Don't look at me, now I'm looking at you
And sitting there won't change a thing
Must we only wonder what the future will bring? two, three, four

Here we are nowhere, nowhere left to go
I said, here we are nowhere, nowhere left to go