Lyrics:

She'd talk to boys
From the far side of town
And in a while
One chose her
They'd paint her face
Bringing gifts for her father
And shower her
With roses

In the early days
They used to laugh a lot
Now they don't even smile very often
And their eyes seldom meet
If they can help it

Urban tribal
The girl don't have an answer to your call
Urban tribal
She won't feed your babies anymore

She was the last in line
Ready to be taken for motherhood
Hand on Bible
Distill the urban tribal
From her blood

She'll tell it all
The confession tonight
One prayer for hope
One for pardon
The early moon
And the glow from the power plant
Will light her way
Back to Harlesden

In the early days
They used to laugh a lot
Now they don't even smile very often
And their eyes seldom meet
If they can help it

Urban tribal
The girl don't have an answer to your call
Urban tribal
She won't feed your babies anymore

She was the last in line
Ready to be taken for motherhood
Hand on Bible
Distill the urban tribal
From her blood