| Born on a black monday, me mother screamin' curses
|
| Me ould lad in the pub losin' money on the horses
|
| Me granny kicked in the door, said «get a job you bastard»
|
| And i come rollin' into the world, a walkin' talkin' disaster
|
| With a toot on the flute and a twiddle on the fiddle oh
|
| Music in me soul and a beat on me boombox oh
|
| Up down turn around and crash into the wall
|
| Dancin' to the beat of me own different drummer oh
|
| At the age of 16 years i was apprenticed to a grocer
|
| But they never knew me name, all they wanted was 'yes and no sir'
|
| So i bought a cheap guitar, i learnt to write me poetry
|
| And me and rock and roll set off to see the country
|
| Oh we played in pubs and dancehalls, we even played in brothels
|
| I learned all about the good life through the ass end of a bottle
|
| I learned about love from many’s the fine lady
|
| But i was always searchin' for me one true darlin' baby
|
| Oh i searched from coast to coast from florida to canada
|
| With me heart upon me sleeve screamin' out «hi, where are yeh»
|
| Til i went home with a six foot girl from the south side of chicago
|
| But it turned out she was a man, oh can you imagine the disaster?
|
| But the sweetest girl of all was from the state of california
|
| Oh she took me home to bed, kept me rockin til the mornin'
|
| Then the door came crashin' in, in the midst of me shenanigans
|
| And her husband beat me up so bad, i’ll never get it up again
|
| Oh i’m goin' back to brooklyn with me tail between me legs oh
|
| I’m givin' up this rock and roll, 'tis far too dangerous work oh
|
| Stay at your steady jobs, me boys, get married and have babies
|
| And keep the hell away from them california ladies |