Small Town Boy song - Bronksi Beat (via looking up "Jacky" song)

Small town boy - Bronski Beat

When looking up the song "Jacky" Marc Almond I came across this song again. I always found it very hard to listen to lyrics in a song. When I was younger most song meanings escaped me completely. Now with wikipedia + youtube I can get song lyrics, meanings, chords, background of bands and singers ...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smalltown_Boy
http://tabs.ultimate-guitar.com/b/bronski_beat/small_town_boy_crd_900053id_08122009date.htm
Small Town Boy Chords by Bronski Beat


Intro: Cm,Bb,Fm,D#


Cm

You leave in the morning

       Bb

With everything you own

      Fm            D#

In a little black case

Cm

Alone on a platform

     Bb

The wind and the rain

      Fm            D#

On a sad and lonely face





Mother will never understand

Why you had to leave

But the answers you seek

Will never be found at home

The love that you need

Will never be found at home



   Cm                   Bb                    Fm    D#

Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away.

Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away.



Pushed around and kicked around

Always a lonely boy

You were the one

That they'd talk about around town

As they put you down



And as hard as they would try

They'd hurt to make you cry

But you never cried to them

Just to your soul

No you never cried to them

Just to your soul



Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away.

Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away.



Cry , boy, cry...



You leave in the morning

With everything you own

In a little black case

Alone on a platform

The wind and the rain

On a sad and lonely face



Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away.

Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away.

Pet Shop Boys - West End Girls - more from the electronic pop era

Again when younger, I hadn't a clue.

"In a West End town, a dead end world" I heard as "In a West End town, in Danworth".

He does have to sing that bit quite fast.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/West_End_Girls

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Waste_Land
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1321 http://www.gutenberg.org/files/1321/1321-h/1321-h.htm

"T.S. Eliot’s cultural clusterfuck and middle finger to the stripped-down simplicity of the Imagists."

"The style is often described as “fragmented” or collage-like. This kind of fragmentation, as variously practiced by Eliot, Ezra Pound, Marianne Moore, and others, was one of the defining features of Modernist poetry in English."

"Inspired in part by James Joyce’s Ulysses" "Eliot wanted to write a poem structured around an even more timeless story: that of the vegetation deity," (The Fisher King?) "which dies and reincarnates according to the seasons and their associated fertility. Eliot applies this scheme to modern life, with “fertility” corresponding roughly to “sexual passion” or “lust for life.”"

Annotated/Commented Waste Land: 

http://rapgenius.com/Ts-eliot-the-waste-land-lyrics#note-853067

http://rapgenius.com/Ts-eliot-notes-on-the-waste-land-lyrics

Pet Shop Boys West End Girls Lyrics
Songwriters: TENNANT, NEIL / LOWE, CHRISTOPHER
(....forever)

Sometimes you're better off dead
There's gun in your hand and it's pointing at your head
You think you're mad, too unstable
Kicking in chairs and knocking down tables
In a restaurant in a West End town
Call the police, there's a madman around
Running down underground to a dive bar
In a West End town

In a West End town, a dead end world
The East End boys and West End girls
In a West End town, a dead end world
The East End boys and West End girls
West End girls

Too many shadows, whispering voices
Faces on posters, too many choices
If, when, why, what?
How much have you got?
Have you got it, do you get it, if so, how often?
And which do you choose, a hard or soft option?
(How much do you need?)

In a West End town, a dead end world
The East End boys and West End girls
In a West End town, a dead end world
The East End boys and West End girls
West End girls
West End girls

(How much do you need?)

In a West End town, a dead end world
The East End boys and West End girls
Oooh West End town, a dead end world
East End boys, West End Girls
West End girls

You've got a heart of glass or a heart of stone
Just you wait 'til I get you home
We've got no future, we've got no past
Here today, built to last
In every city, in every nation
>From Lake Geneva to the Finland station
(How far have you been?)

In a West End town, a dead end world
The East End boys and West End girls
A West End town, a dead end world
East End Boys, West End girls
West End girls

West End girls

West End girls
(How far have you been?)

Girls
East End boys
And West End girls
And West End girls
(... forever)
And West End girls
(How far have you been?)

East End boys
The West End girls
The West End boys
And West End girls

The West End girls
The West End boys
The West End girls

La Chanson de Jacky. Jacques Brel. "Jacky" song lyrics, Marc Almond version, Jacques Brel version, translation, ...

I came across this song again after following the tour of David McWilliams "Days of Pearly Spencer" - Marc Almond - Amsterdam - Jacques Brel. And - who would have thought it! - it's about Jacques Brel and written by Jacques Brel and this version from a whole musical show about Brel ("Jacques Brel is alive and well and living in Paris"). 

When I was younger I loved the sound of this song. Though I was never that into music. Music was John's thing. it was too cool for me. Again I had no clue who/what the song was about, who wrote it, who sang it, ... 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jacky_(Jacques_Brel_song)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jacques_Brel_is_Alive_and_Well_and_Living_in_Paris

http://www.songlyrics.com/jacques-brel-is-alive-and-well-and-living-in-paris-lyrics/

Living In Paris - Jackie (La chanson de Jacky) Lyrics

Artist: Jacques Brel Is Alive and Well and Living In Paris

Songwriters: Jacques Brel, Gerard Jouannest

And if one day I should become
A singer with a Spanish bum
Who sings for women of great virtue

I'd sing to them with a guitar
I borrowed from coffee bar
Well, what you don't know doesn't hurt you

My name would be Antonio
And all my bridges I would burn
And if I gave them some they'd know
I expect something in return

I'd have to get drunk every night
To talk about virility
With some old grandmother who might
Be decked out like a Christmas tree

And tho' pink elephants I'd see
Tho' I'd be drunk as I could be
Still I would sing my song to me
About the time they called me Jackie

If I could be for only an hour
If I could be for an hour every day
If I could be for just one little hour
Cute, cute, cute in a stupid-ass way

And if I joined the social whirl
Became procurer of young girls
Then I would have my own bordellos

My record would be number one
And I'd sell records by the ton
All sung by many other fellows

My name would then be Handsome Jack
And I'd sell boats of opium
Whiskey that came from Twickenham
Authentic queers and phony virgins

I'd have a bank on every finger
A finger in every country
And every country ruled by me
I still know where I'd want to be

Locked up inside my opium den
Surrounded by some Chinamen
I'd sing the song that I sang then
About the time they called me Jackie

If I could be for only an hour
If I could be for an hour every day
If I could be for just one little hour
Cute, cute, cute in a stupid-ass way

Now tell me wouldn't it be nice
That if one day in paradise
I sang for all the ladies up there

And they would sing along with me
We'd be so happy there to be
'Cause down below is really nowhere

My name would then be Jupiter
And I would know where I was going
And then I would become all knowing
And my beard so long and flowing

If I became deaf dumb and blind
Because I pitied all mankind
And broke my heart to make things right
I know that every single night

When my angelic work was through
The Angels and the Devil too
Would sing my childhood song to me
About the time they called me Jackie

If I could be for only an hour
If I could be for an hour every day
If I could be for just one stinkin' hour
Cute, cute, cute in a stupid-ass way

Read more at http://www.songlyrics.com/jacques-brel-is-alive-and-well-and-living-in-paris/jackie-la-chanson-de-jacky-lyrics/#Xdiif9RmmvrBPgoD.99

And now Jacques Brel singing it:  "Beau beau beau et con à la fois"

*  Artist: Jacques Brel
*  Song: La Chanson de Jacky
Read more at http://lyricstranslate.com/en/la-chanson-de-jacky-jackys-song.html#CAixvLv50rjZAkOR.99

French
La Chanson de Jacky

Même si un jour à Knocke-le-Zoute
Je deviens comme je le redoute
Chanteur pour femmes finissantes
Même si je leur chante "Mi Corazon"
Avec la voix bandonéante
D'un Argentin de Carcassonne
Même si on m'appelle Antonio
Que je brûle mes derniers feux
En échange de quelques cadeaux
Madame je fais ce que je peux
Même si je me saoule à l'hydromel
Pour mieux parler de virilité
A des mémères décorées
Comme des arbres de Noël

Je sais que dans ma saoulographie
Chaque nuit pour des éléphants roses
Je chanterai la chanson morose
Celle du temps où je m'appelais Jacky

(refrain)
Être une heure une heure seulement
Être une heure une heure quelquefois
Être une heure rien qu'une heure durant
Beau beau beau et con à la fois

Même si un jour à Macao
Je deviens gouverneur de tripot
Cerclé de femmes languissantes
Même si lassé d'être chanteur
J'y sois devenu maître chanteur
Et que ce soit les autres qui chantent
Même si on m'appelle le beau Serge
Que je vende des bateaux d'opium
Du whisky de Clermont-Ferrand
De vrais pédés de fausses vierges
Que j'aie une banque à chaque doigt
Et un doigt dans chaque pays
Et que chaque pays soit à moi
Je sais quand même que chaque nuit
Tout seul au fond de ma fumerie
Pour un public de vieux Chinois
Je rechanterai ma chanson à moi
Celle du temps où je m'appelais Jacky

(refrain)

Même si un jour au paradis
Je deviens comme j'en serais surpris
Chanteur pour femmes à ailes blanches
Même si je leur chante alléluia
En regrettant le temps d'en bas
Où c'est pas tous les jours dimanche
Même si on m'appelle Dieu le Père
Celui qui est dans l'annuaire
Entre Dieulefit et Dieu vous garde
Même si je me laisse pousser la barbe
Même si toujours trop bonne pomme
Je me crève le coeur et le pur esprit
A vouloir consoler les hommes
Je sais quand même que chaque nuit
J'entendrai dans mon paradis
Les anges les saints et Lucifer
Me chanter la chanson de naguère
Celle du temps où je m'appelais Jacky.

(refrain)
Please translate this song from French into English.
[Description: Try to align]
English
Jacky's song

Even if one day in Knokke-le-Zoute*
I become as I dread to
A singer for women drawing to an end
Even if I sing "Mi Corazon" to them
With a bandoneoning** voice
Of an Argentine from Carcassone***
Even if I'm called Antonio
That I burn down my last fires
In exchange for some presents
Madam, I do what I can
Even if I get drunk on mead
To talk better about virility
To grannies adorned
Like Chritsmas trees

I know that in my drunkography
Every night for pink elephants
I'll be singing the gloomy song
About the days when my name was Jacky

(chorus)
Being one hour, just one hour
Being one hour, one hour sometimes
Being one hour, just for one hour
Handsome, handsome, handsome and stupid at the same time

Even if one day in Macau
I become governor of a gambling joint
Surrounded by yearning women
Even if, tired of being a singer,
I became blackmailer there
And that it's the others who sing
Even if I'm called Handsome Serge
That I sell boats of opium
Whisky from Clermont-Ferrand****
Real faggots, fake virgins
That I have a bank round each finger
And a finger in each country
And that each country is mine
I still know that every night
All alone at the far end of my den
For an audience of old Chinese people
I'll sing my own song again
About the days when my name was Jacky

(chorus)

Even if one day in heaven
I become as I would be surprised to
A singer for white-winged women
Even if I sing hallelujah to them
Regretting the days when I was down there
Where it's not everyday Sunday
Even if they call me God the Father
The one who's in the phone book
Between Dieulefit* and God bless you
Even if I grow a beard
Even if, always too good-natured,
I break my heart and my sheer mind
Wanting to comfort people
I still know that every night
I'll hear in my paradise
The angels, the saints and Lucifer
Singing to me this old time song
About the days when my name was Jacky.

(chorus)
Author's comment:

*town in Belgium
**bandoneon = Argentinian music instrument
***Southern French town
****French town
**French town, meaning "God did/made it"

Read more at http://lyricstranslate.com/en/la-chanson-de-jacky-jackys-song.html#CAixvLv50rjZAkOR.99



http://tabs.ultimate-guitar.com/s/scott_walker/jackie_crd.htm
Jackie
(Brel/Jouannest/Shuman)

         Intro:  Gm Dm x4


         Verse 1


         Gm         Dm             Gm            Dm             Gm
         And if one day I should become a singer with a Spanish bum

                       Dm             Gm    Dm
         Who sings for women of great virtue

         Gm          Dm             Gm               Dm            Gm
         I'd sing to them with a guitar I'd borrowed from a coffee bar

                        Dm                 Gm       Dm
         Well, what you don't know doesn't hurt you!

         G                     Gmaj7                         Gmaj6
         My name would be Antonio and all my bridges I would burn

                                          Gmaj7 G                        Am  D Am D
         And when I gave them some they'd know I'd expect something in return

         Am                          Am(maj7)                   Am7
         I'd have to get drunk every night and talk about virility

                                     Am6                                  B7
         With some old Grandmama who might be decked out like a Christmas tree

         Em              Bm            Em                 Bm               Em
         And though pink elephants I'd see, though I'd be drunk as I could be

                       Bm              Em           Am7                 G
         Still I would sing my song to me about the time they called me Jackie



         Chorus


                    G Gmaj7        Gmaj6 Gmaj7
         If I could be for only an hour

                    G         Gmaj7      Am  D
         If I could be for an hour every day

                    Am     Am(maj7)        Am7  Am6
         If I could be for just one little hour

                D                          Gm Dm Gm Dm
         A cute cute in a stupid-assed way



         Verse 2


         Gm       Dm                Gm               Dm             Gm
         And if I joined the social world, became procurer of young girls

                      Dm             Gm    Dm
         Then I would have my own bordellos

         Gm        Dm              Gm               Dm             Gm
         My record would be number one and I'd sell records by the ton

                     Dm         Gm     Dm
         All sung by many other fellows

         G                              Gmaj7                         Gmaj6
         My name would then be Handsome Jack and I'd sell boats of opium

                                     Gmaj7 G                             Am7 D  Am7 D
         Whisky that came from Twickenham,   authentic queers and phoney virgins

         Am                      Am(maj7)                          Am7
         If I had banks on every finger, a finger in every country

                                          Am6                       B7
         And all the countries ruled by me I'd still know where I'd want to be

         Em          Bm            Em             Bm           Em
         Locked up inside my opium den surrounded by some Chinamen

                      Bm               Em             Am7                 G
         I'd sing the song that I sang then about the time they called me Jackie


         repeat chorus



         Verse 3


         Gm          Dm             Gm               Dm         Gm
         Now tell me wouldn't it be nice that if one day in Paradise

                      Dm             Gm       Dm
         I'd sing for all the ladies up there

         Gm             Dm              Gm             Dm            Gm
         And they would sing along with me, we'd be so happy, that'd be

                     Dm            Gm     Dm
         'Cos down below is really nowhere

         G                       Gmaj7                            Gmaj6
         And if my name were Juniper and I would know where I was going

                            Gmaj7                    G             Am7 D  Am7 D
         And I would become all-knowing, my beard so very long and flowing

         Am                         Am(maj7)                      Am7
         If I became deaf, dumb and blind because I pitied all mankind

                                           Am6
         And broke my heart to make things right

                             B7
         I'd know that every single night

         Em        Bm             Em                 Bm            Em
         When my angelic work was through the angels and the Devil too

                       Bm                Em           Am7                 G
         Would sing my childhood song to me about the time they called me Jackie


         repeat chorus


         Gm Dm x4 end on G

Amsterdam song by Jacques Brel.

From the Days of Pearly Spencer song I also came across Marc Almond singing it, then found him singing Amsterdam by Jacques Brel and sung by many more people.

To the tune of Greensleeves. Simple tune though difficult to sing! Simple enough lyrics but Brel performs with such passion the result is amazing.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amsterdam_(Jacques_Brel_song)
The tune is a slightly modified version of the traditional English folk song Greensleeves.[1]

In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who sings
Of the dreams that he brings
>From the wide open sea
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who sleeps
While the river bank weeps
To the old Willow tree

In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who dies
Full of beer, full of cries
In a drunken town fight
In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who's born
On a hot muggy morn
By the dawn's early light

In the port of Amsterdam
Where the sailors all meet
There's a sailor who eats
Only fish heads and tails
And he'll show you his teeth
That have rotted too soon
That can haul up the sails
That can swallow the moon

And he yells to the cook
With his arms open wide
"Hey, bring me more fish
Throw it down by my side"
And he wants so to belch
But he's too full to try
So he stands up and laughs
And he zips up his fly

In the port of Amsterdam
You can see sailors dance
Paunches bursting their pants
Grinding women to porch
They've forgotten the tune
That their whiskey voice croaked
Splitting the night
With the roar of their jokes
And they turn and they dance
And they laugh and they lust
Till the rancid sound of the accordion bursts
And then out of the night
With their pride in their pants
And the sluts that they tow
Underneath the street lamp

In the port of Amsterdam
There's a sailor who drinks
And he drinks and he drinks
And he drinks once again
He'll drink to the health
Of the whores of Amsterdam
Who've given their bodies
To a thousand other men
Yeah, they've bargained their virtue
Their goodness all gone
For a few dirty coins
When he just can't go on
Throws his nose to the sky
Aims it up above
And he pisses like I cry
On the unfaithful love

In the port of Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam

Original version by Brel and translation:

http://lyricstranslate.com/en/amsterdam-amsterdam.html-6

Amsterdam 

Dans le port d'Amsterdam
Y a des marins qui chantent
Les rêves qui les hantent
Au large d'Amsterdam
Dans le port d'Amsterdam
Y a des marins qui dorment
Comme des oriflammes
Le long des berges mornes

Dans le port d'Amsterdam
Y a des marins qui meurent
Pleins de bière et de drames
Aux premières lueurs
Mais dans le port d'Amsterdam
Y a des marins qui naissent
Dans la chaleur épaisse
Des langueurs océanes

Dans le port d'Amsterdam
Y a des marins qui mangent
Sur des nappes trop blanches
Des poissons ruisselants
Ils vous montrent des dents
A croquer la fortune
A décroisser la Lune
A bouffer des haubans
Et ça sent la morue
Jusque dans le coeur des frites
Que leurs grosses mains invitent
A revenir en plus
Puis se lèvent en riant
Dans un bruit de tempête
Referment leur braguette
Et sortent en rotant

Dans le port d'Amsterdam
Y a des marins qui dansent
En se frottant la panse
Sur la panse des femmes
Et ils tournent et ils dansent
Comme des soleils crachés
Dans le son déchiré
D'un accordéon rance
Ils se tordent le cou
Pour mieux s'entendre rire
Jusqu'à ce que tout à coup
L'accordéon expire
Alors le geste grave
Alors le regard fière
Ils ramènent leur batave
Jusqu'en pleine lumière

Dans le port d'Amsterdam
Y a des marins qui boivent
Et qui boivent et reboivent
Et qui reboivent encore
Ils boivent à la santé
Des putains d'Amsterdam
De Hambourg et d'ailleurs
Enfin ils boivent aux dames
Qui leur donnent leur joli corps
Qui leur donnent leur vertu
Pour une pièce en or
Et quand ils ont bien bu
Se plantent le nez au ciel
Se mouchent dans les étoiles
Et ils pissent comme je pleure
Sur les femmes infidèles

Dans le port d'Amsterdam
Dans le port d'Amsterdam.



Amsterdam

In the port of Amsterdam

There are sailors who sing
The dreams that haunt them
On the coast of Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who sleep
Like banners
The hills along the banks

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who die
Full of beer and dramas
At first light
But in the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who are born
In the thick heat
Of the languid oceans

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who eat
On too white tablecloths
Fish dripping
They show you their teeth
To sketch the fortune
To descend the Moon
To eat the shrouds
And it smells like cod
Into the heart of fries
that their big hands invite
To return to more
Then they get up laughing
In one sound of storm
Closing their codpiece
And leave in belching

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who dance
By rubbing the belly
On the belly of women
And they turn and they dance
like suns who spat
In a broken sound
Of a rancid accordion
They twist their necks
To understand each other better, laughing
Until all of a sudden
The accordion ends
Then the serious gesture
Then the proud look
They bring their Dutchman
Until the full light

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who drink
And drink and drink again
And yet they drink again
They drink to health
Whores of Amsterdam
Hamburg and elsewhere
Finally they drink to the ladies
That give them their nice body
That give them their virtue
For a gold coin
And when they are too drunk
They plant their noses to the sky
They blow their noses in the stars
And they piss like I cry
On unfaithful women

In the port of Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam.

http://lyricstranslate.com/en/amsterdam-amsterdam.html-6#TPAEKoAJIXheQdbe.99

The Days of Pearly Spencer by David McWilliams

The chorus of this song entered my head. And I eventually half remembered the lyric "the days of something and somethingcer" and managed to find the song with that!

Also this is a good one to learn with piano and guitar.

"Days of Pearly Spencer"
(David McWilliams)

Intro:

         Am (strings alone first two bars; w/arpeggiated guitar next two
             bars; w/bass and drums next two bars and into verse)

Verse 1:

           Am
         A tenement, a dirty street
           Em
         Walked and worn by shoeless feet
             Am
         In silence long and so complete
                 C               G
         Watched by a shivering sun

         Old eyes in a small child's face
         Watching as the shadows race
         Through walls and cracks that leave no trace
         And daylight's brightness shun

Chorus (w/filtered vocal):

         Dm    Em                      Am
                  The days of Pearly Spencer
              Dm  Em                    Am
         Ahh..ahh    the race is almost run

Verse 2:



         Nose pressed hard on frosted glass

         Gazing as the swollen mass

         On concrete fields where grows no grass

         Stumbles blindly on



         Iron trees smother the air

         But, withering, they stand and stare

         Through eyes that neither know nor care

         Where the grass has gone



[repeat chorus] The days of Pearly Spencer, Ahh..ahh, The race is almost run



Verse 3:



         Pearly, where's your milk-white skin

         What's that stubble on your chin

         It's buried in the rotgut gin

         You've played and lost, not won



         You played a house that can't be beat

         Now look, your head's bowed in defeat

         You walked too far along the street

         Where only rats can run



[repeat chorus; fade 2nd time]

Marc Almond adds:

A tenement, a dirty street
Remember worn and shoeless feet
Remember how you stood to beat
The way your life had gone
So Pearly don't you shed more tears
For those best forgotten years
Those tenements are memories
Of where you've risen from

The days of Pearly Spencer
The race is almost won

http://www.davidmcwilliams.com/biography.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_McWilliams_(musician)
http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/stuartbailie/2012/06/the_great_northern_songbook_-_1.shtml

McWilliams' first album, David McWilliams Singing Songs by David McWilliams, was produced and arranged by Mike Leander, and reached # 38 on the UK album chart. He quickly recorded a second album, David McWilliams, which reached # 23 in the album chart and featured the single "Days of Pearly Spencer".[3] This was a song about a homeless man McWilliams had encountered in Ballymena, and featured a sweeping orchestral arrangement by Leander and a chorus sung as if through a megaphone.[1] Massive exposure on Radio Caroline and through advertisements in the UK music press in the summer of 1967 helped generate interest and sales in continental Europe, and the record topped the charts in numerous countries including France and the Netherlands, selling a million copies worldwide.[2] However, although it became well known in the UK, "Days of Pearly Spencer" failed to make the charts there, perhaps because the BBC refused to play it owing to Solomon's links with pirate radio, and through mismanagement McWilliams never profited from the song's success.[3] In Italy, the song was covered in 1968 by Caterina Caselli as "Il Volto Della Vita". A spanish version called "Vuelo blanco de gaviota" was recorded in 1979 by Ana Belén. Successful later versions of the song included a disco version which reached # 1 in Belgium in the 1980s,[2] and a cover version in 1988 by the French psychedelic band The Vietnam Veterans and their album The Days of Pearly Spencer.

A recording by Marc Almond, with an additional verse written by Almond giving the song a more optimistic tone, reached # 4 in the UK charts in 1992.
80s synth duo Soft Cell, "Tainted Love" cover of a Gloria Jones' Northern Soul classic.
He discovered the songs of Jacques Brel through Bowie.
1990s Almond [] released a new solo album, Tenement Symphony. [] including renditions of the Jacques Brel classic "Jacky" (which made the UK Top 20), and "The Days of Pearly Spencer" which returned Almond to the UK Top 5 in 1992.

Sung briskly. 4 beats. "A tenement, a dirty street" = 8 beats.

Tune/notes:

Melody: G AAA A CCBA

        G GGG B B A G

        G AAA A CCBA

        G GG E DC E...

Chorus: F.. G.. BCBAGAE..

        F.. G.. BCBAGA...