Music Quiz / The Clash Songs by Lyric

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Can you name the Clash songs from the given lyrics?

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LyricSong TitleAlbum (Year)
I'll salute the new wave, and I hope nobody escapes!
The hillsides ring with 'free the people', and can I hear the echoes from the days of '39?
Break your back to earn your pay, and don't forget to grovel
Castro is a colour that will earn you a spray of lead
Why not phone up Robin Hood, and ask him for some wealth distribution?
We've been told to keep the strangers out; we don't like 'em starting to hang about
In the gleaming corridor of the 51st floor, the money can be made if you really want some more
Forced to watch at the feast, then sweep up the night
In the opium dens and the barroom gin, in the Belmont chair playing violin...
I wasn't born so much as I fell out; nobody seemed to notice me
There's a lonely soul out on the crossroads waiting there in the pouring rain
In these days, the beat is militant; must be a clash, there's no alternative
The ice age is coming, the sun's zooming in; meltdown expected, the wheat is growing thin
It's brawn against brain, and knife against chain, but it's all young blood flowing down the drain
But he's just like everyone, he's got a Ford Cortina that just won't run without fuel
South Atlantic wind blows ice from a dying creed; I see no glory
Everybody say 'he sure looks funny' - that's Montgomery Clift, honey!
I hate the civil service rules, I won't open letter bombs for you
You must not act the way you were brought up...
I have been a washer-up, and he has been a scrubber-up
Marx was skint, but he had sense; Engels lent him the necessary pence
As the daily crowd disperses, no-one says that much
The killer of love caught the last late Niagara bus
As soon as the sharif was chauffered out of there, the jet pilots tuned to the cockpit radio blare
We will teach our twisted speech to the unbelievers; we will train our blue-eyed men to be young believers
LyricSong TitleAlbum (Year)
The band went in and knocked 'em dead in 2 minutes 59
The twenties turned, the north was dead; the hunger strike came marching south
You can excuse the nervous trigger-man just this once for jumping the gun
And so we say, we ain't diggin' no grave - we're digging a foundation for a future to be made
Are you taking over, or are you taking orders? Are you going backwards, or are you going forwards?
They think they're so right, but the truth is only known by guttersnipes
The generals bow to the government; we are tired of the tune, you must not relent
And I want to liquefy everybody gone dry, or plug into the aerials that poke up in the sky
I went to the market to realise my soul, 'cause what I need, I just don't have
The radios hive like bees; the body in the ice-box has no date for freeze
If you say that you are mine, I'll be here 'til the end of time
Well, I just got back and I wish I never leave now (where'd you go?)
I'm cutting out your picture from page one, I'm gonna get a jacket just like yours
Anything I want, he gives it to me; anything I want, he gives it, but not for free
Hands of law have sorted through my identity, but now this sound is brave, and wants to be free
I see all my dreams come tumbling down; I can't be happy without you around
I'm up and down the Westway, in and out the lights; what a great traffic system, it's so bright!
Blood inside a fountain pen wrote you out of life again, and who knows any better than to kick and scratch under English weather?
This room is a cage, it's like captivity; how can anyone exist in such misery?
This is a public service announcement - with guitar!
There ain't no asylum here; King Solomon, he never lived 'round here
When they kick at your front door, how you gonna come - with your hands on your head, or on the trigger of your gun?
Every gimmick-hungry yob digging gold from rock 'n' roll grabs the mic to tell us he'll die before he's sold
They said we'd be artistically free when we signed that bit of paper
Blood, black gold and the face of a judge - is the music calling for a river of blood?

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