| But in weather like this, you should wear a coat, a nice warm hat
|
| A needle and thread the hand stitches of time
|
| Battling Levinsky versus Jackie Burk
|
| Bobbing and weaving, an invisible line
|
| So step for step and both light on our feet
|
| We’ll travel many along dim silent street
|
| Would you like a bit of this, or a little bit of that? |
| (Misses)
|
| A little bit of what you like does you no harm, you know that
|
| The perpetual steady echo of the passing beat
|
| A continual dark river of people
|
| In it’s transience and in it’s permanence
|
| But, when the streetlamp fills the gutter with gold
|
| So many priceless items bought and sold
|
| So step for step and both light on our feet
|
| We’ll travel many along dim silent street (together)
|
| Once round Arnold Circus, and up through Petticoat Lane
|
| Past the well of shadows, and once back round again
|
| Arm in arm, with an abstracted air
|
| To where the people stare
|
| Out of the upstairs windows
|
| Because we are living like kings
|
| And these days will last forever
|
| Cos sailors from Africa, China and the archipelago of Malay
|
| Jump ship ragged and penniless into Shadwells Tiger Bay
|
| The Welsh and Irish wagtails, mothers of midnight
|
| The music hall carousel enspilling out into bonfire light
|
| Sending half crazed shadows, giants dancing up the brick wall
|
| Of Mr Trumans beer factory, waving, bottles ten feet tall
|
| Whether one calls it Spitalfields, Whitechapel, Tower Hamlets
|
| Or Banglatown. |
| We’re all dancing in the moonlight, we’re all
|
| On borrowed ground.
|
| Oh, I’m just walking down to, I’m just floating down through
|
| Won’t you come with me, to the Liberty of Norton Folgate
|
| But wait!
|
| What’s that?
|
| Dan Leno
|
| And the Limehouse golem
|
| Purposefully walking nowhere, oh I’m happy just floating about
|
| (Have a banana)
|
| On a Sunday afternoon, the stallholders all call and shout
|
| To no-one in particular
|
| Avoiding people you know, you’re just basking in you’re own company
|
| The technicolour world’s going by, but you’re the lead in your own movie
|
| Cos in the Liberty of Norton Folgate
|
| Walking wild and free, in your second hand coat,
|
| Happy just to float
|
| In this little taste of liberty
|
| A part of everything you see
|
| They’re coming left and right
|
| Trying to flog you stuff you don’t need or want
|
| And a smiling chap takes your hand
|
| And drags you in his Uncles restaurant
|
| (ee-yar, ee-yar, ee-yar)
|
| There’s a Chinese man trying hard to flog you moody DVDs
|
| You know? |
| You’ve seen the film, it’s black and white, it’s got no sound
|
| And a man’s head pops up and down
|
| Right across your widescreen TV
|
| (Only a fiver)
|
| ('Ow much?)
|
| (Alright, two for eight quid)
|
| (Ee-yar, ee-yar, look, I’m givin' it away)
|
| (Givin' it away!)
|
| Cos in the Liberty of Norton Folgate
|
| Walking wild and free, in your second hand coat,
|
| Happy just to float
|
| In this little piece of liberty
|
| You’re a part of everything you see
|
| There’s the sturdy old fellows, pickpockets, dandy’s, extortioners
|
| And night wanderers, the feeble, the ghastly, upon whom death
|
| Had placed a very sure hand,
|
| Some in shreds and patches,
|
| Reeling inarticulate full of noisy and inordinate vivacity
|
| That jars discordantly upon the ear
|
| And gives an aching sensation to both pair of eyeballs
|
| (Noisy and inordinate vivacity)
|
| Ohhhh ahhhhhh ahhhhh
|
| In the beginning was a fear of the immigrant
|
| In the beginning was a fear of the immigrant
|
| He’s made his way down to the dark riverside
|
| In the beginning was a fear of the immigrant
|
| In the beginning was a fear of the immigrant
|
| He’s made his home there down by the dark riverside
|
| Ohhhh ahhhhhh ahhhhh
|
| He made his home there down by the riverside
|
| They made their homes there down by the riverside
|
| The city sprang up from the dark river Thames
|
| They made their home there down by the riverside
|
| They made their homes there down by the riverside
|
| The city sprang up from the dark mud of the Thames
|
| I’ll say it again
|
| (Ha ha ha, that’s right)
|
| 'Cos in the Liberty of Norton Folgate
|
| Walking wild and free
|
| And in your second hand coat
|
| Happy just to float
|
| In this little taste of liberty
|
| Cos you’re a part of everything you see
|
| Yes, you’re a part of everything you see
|
| With a little bit of this
|
| And a little bit of that
|
| A little bit of what you like does you no harm
|
| And you know that
|
| Ohhhh ahhhhhh ahhhhh |