| I like to walk in the summer breeze
|
| Down Dalling Road by the dead old trees
|
| And drink with my friends
|
| In the Hammersmith Broadway
|
| Dear dirty delightful old drunken old days
|
| Then the winter came down and I loved it so dearly
|
| The pubs and the bookies where you’d spend all your time
|
| And the old men that were singing
|
| When the roses bloom again
|
| And turn like the leaves
|
| To a new summertime
|
| Now the winter comes down
|
| I can’t stand the chill
|
| That comes to the streets around Christmas time
|
| And I’m buggered to damnation
|
| And I haven’t got a penny
|
| To wander the dark streets of London
|
| Every time that I look on the first day of summer
|
| Takes me back to the place where they gave ECT
|
| And the drugged up psychos
|
| With death in their eyes
|
| And how all of this really
|
| Means nothing to me
|
| Now the winter comes down
|
| I can’t stand the chill
|
| That comes to the streets around Christmas time
|
| And I’m buggered to damnation
|
| And I haven’t got a penny
|
| To wander the dark streets of London
|
| Every time that I look on the first day of summer
|
| Takes me back to the place where they gave ECT
|
| And the drugged up psychos
|
| With death in their eyes
|
| And how all of this really
|
| Means nothing to me
|
| Now the winter comes down
|
| I can’t stand the chill
|
| That comes to the streets around Christmas time
|
| And I’m buggered to damnation
|
| And I haven’t got a penny
|
| To wander the dark streets of London
|
| To wander the dark streets of London
|
| To wander the dark streets of London |