There's a kid who was born and was raised in the west
There's a kid from the east who never really fit in with the rest
Every week they would meet in the street with their friends
With the guns that they made and the caps that they stole they would fight to
Their death
This time we'll have victory
Last time ended in a defeat
Our town becomes a battleground
West End Riot
We'll be here next Saturday
With our guns and our heads held high
So listen up boys, you'd better not cry this time
See a bum on the street that you think you recognise
Young kid never looked so bad, when he was only 4ft high
Six o'clock runnin' home I don't wanna be late
Another Saturday of sun and war shared with our mates
Boys will be boys playing up and making lots of noise
Never used to talk about the future
Never thought that we'd have to care
So west end riot!
There's a man who was born in the west workin' at a factory
There's a man from the east who know runs the whole company
How they've grown on their own not like the kids they used to be
Saturdays of sun and war are just fond memories