From Streaming To The Stage: How Music Discovery Is Changing Concert Culture
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Marc Almond The Days Of Pearly Spencer
A tenement, a dirty street Walked and worn by shoeless feet Inside it's long and so complete Watched by a shivering sun Old eyes in a small child's face Watching as the shadows race Through walls and cracks and leave no trace And daylight's brightness shuns The days of Pearly Spencer The race is almost run Nose pressed hard on frosted glass Gazing as the swollen mass On concrete fields where grows no grass Stumbles blindly on Iron trees smother the air But withering they stand and stare Through eyes that neither know nor care Where the grass is gone The days of Pearly Spencer The race is almost run Pearly where's your milk white skin What's that stubble on your chin It's buried in the rot gut gin You played and lost not won You played a house that can't be beat Now look your head's bowed in defeat You walked too far along the street Where only rats can run The days of Pearly Spencer The race is almost run The days of Pearly Spencer The race is almost run The race is almost run A tenement, a dirty street Remember worn and shoeless feet Remember how you stood to beat The way your life had gone So Pearly don't you shed more tears For those best forgotten years Those tenements are memories Of where you've risen from The days of Pearly Spencer The race is almost won
