Print

Down in the Glen there's a band of old men Drinking their cider till dawn Warming to fires made of ashcans and tyres The outcasts on Liberty hill In the Gin Palace now! We're swaying together as one Ill-defined features and hair stood on end The Dandys the Fops and the Goths Come on and get dressed baby pull on your pants We're going to go out tonight Through the dirty dark streets So cold and so bleak See the lights turn fog into gold A community centre for the hopeless The brains of the dispossessed Sometimes it turns reeling into your arms Cling together excited and laughing Strangers flung together on a fast fun-house floor It turned you out of your bed The right to stew in your own juice The freedom to freeze and die Inside so hot so bright and so loud The people all talking at once Flashing dark eyes shining red lips Beautiful glistening clothes In the Gin Palace now! We're swaying together as one They've cashed in the chips on our shoulders In the Casino economy Place your bets From Letras Mania