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A stron wind blew across the bay |
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A word for happiness on that day |
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The workers board their trains for home |
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Their shirts were dirty and damp |
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And I stood there just like before |
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A nod from a stud or a smile from a whore |
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It all seemed so impermanent though |
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I think that it never will change |
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I went down the old narrow road |
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That leads to the shore and to |
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Sally's old boat |
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I went aboard and i rowed away |
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To get to the other side |
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And they all lit a fire on the beach that night |
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And all their troubles were out of sight |
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I just walked in and |
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I tied the boat |
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To a tree in the edge of the wood |
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And they all sang a song called the bottle of smoke |
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They blew their whistles... |
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Their drums they stroke |
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And the fair young ladies thay danced in the night |
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To the sound of the band in the flickering light |
