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