| He said it saved him from a bullet once — but I did not believe
|
| He was just an old man in the park, half drunk on rum
|
| As he rolled another smoke and closed the John Bull Tin
|
| He said,"I've carried that since 1931."
|
| Rubbed and worn shiny silver — blue letters chipped away
|
| Old memories and tobacco fit within
|
| He had one religious medal that he carried near his heart
|
| But his pride and joy was that old John Bull Tin
|
| He said, «it used to be a tyre-patch kit but that was long ago…
|
| It’s memories and tobacco now, my friend.
|
| Ya know some folks need a magic lamp to conjure up their dreams
|
| But mine are kept inside the John Bull tin.»
|
| Rubbed and worn shiny silver — blue letters chipped away
|
| Old memories and tobacco fit within
|
| He had one religious medal that he carried near his heart
|
| But his pride and joy was that old John Bull Tin
|
| I found it lyin' in the grass,
|
| in a park near Shepherd’s Bush
|
| I never saw that old man again
|
| I guess he rolled his final smoke and went to his reward
|
| Why else would he have dropped the John Bull Tin?
|
| Rubbed and worn shiny silver — blue letters chipped away
|
| Old memories and tobacco fit within
|
| He had one religious medal that he carried near his heart
|
| But his pride and joy was that old John Bull Tin
|
| His pride and joy was that old John Bull Tin
|
| His pride and joy was that old John Bull Tin |