| And they wandered in from the city
|
| Of St. John without a dime
|
| Wearing coats that shined both red and green
|
| Colors from their sunny island
|
| From their boats of iron they looked upon
|
| The promised land where surely life was sweet
|
| On the rising tide to New York City
|
| Did they ride into the street
|
| See the glory (see the glory of)
|
| Of the royal scam
|
| They are hounded down to the bottom
|
| Of a bad town amid the ruins
|
| Where they learn to fear an angry race
|
| Of fallen kings, their dark companions
|
| While the memory of their southern sky
|
| Was clouded by the savage winter
|
| Every patron saint hung on the wall
|
| Shared the room with twenty sinners
|
| See the glory (see the glory of)
|
| Of the royal scam
|
| By the blackened wall he does it all
|
| He thinks he’s died and gone to heaven
|
| Now the tale is told by the old man
|
| Back home he reads the letter
|
| How they are paid in gold just to babble
|
| In the back room all night and waste their time
|
| And they wandered in from the city
|
| Of St. John without a dime
|
| See the glory (see the glory of)
|
| Of the royal scam
|
| See the glory (see the glory of)
|
| Of the royal scam
|
| See the glory (see the glory of)
|
| Of the royal scam |