Paddy Goes To Holyhead I Hate London
When I woke up early in the morning
First I smelled your awful breath rightin the air
Mr. Johnson bought a new umbrella
Feeding old fat doves down Pickpocketdilly Square
All along the pond they call a river
With all that crowded traffic at your side
Won´t you come along with me to Soho?
There´s a crack goin´ on in the criminal bars tonight
Mr. Joyce disappeared for positive poems
Mr. Wilde was dying down in France
This is not a place for better weather
This is not a stage for unemployed reaggae-bands
There´s no need to stay a little bit longer
There´s no reason there´s none to compare
A buskers heart is dying by the dockside
Goodbye Lady Rubbish I don´t care
Uh - I hate London, Uh - I feel so sick
Uh - See me running, Uh - I never come back
