There’s a new kind of freedom on Friday Street,
in voodoo tweetin’ mode to the folk we meet.
There’s a four-letter word that’s out of control,
there’s love on the lips of every boy and girl.
All the way to the Broomielaw,
we’re gonna take our dance party.
In coats of many colours, karma is comin’ to set us free.
Wahooooooooo!!
There’s a new kind of freedom on Friday St —
the soul-kickin’ moment when we rock the elite.
Flags of peace in the centre of town,
songs in the tunnels of the underground.
All the way to the Broomielaw,
we’re gonna take our dance party.
In coats of many colours, karma is comin’ to set us free.
Wahooooooooo!!
We got times of freedom clashing.
Freedom rain is falling —
falling on every boy and girl,
falling in love to make another world.
We’re gonna take our party uptown.
We’re gonna dance the fling till sundown.
We’re gonna dance, chant, sing — ohh!!
And reclaim a jewel from a crown.