On the night that

Maxton died

I fell over

The Clyde was full of old tyres

The wind nearly pulled my

Breeches off

And Ann Kelly

She kissed my mouth



Fellow hoodlums and

Engineers

The Union`s south

And we`re all here

I`m going up Buchanan Street

With a box of fireworks

And two bottles of

Tizer



On the last train from St. Enochs

I saw the graveyard

It looked like our old street

People were cheering

All the way from Hampden

With macaroons and

And scarves and rattles



CHORUS



Billy`s a butcher now

Always has been

And he picks his teeth

With old rusty meat hooks

And he sends his beef with the bike boys

Monday to Saturday

Partick to Cowcaddens



CHORUS