Tuesday, August 26, 2014


There are the thieves,
for sure the beggars.
Then there was he,
the big bootlegger.
His moonshine activity
had been illegal.
His moonshine whisky
folk say was lethal.
Find the man became
such a big noise
that word got round
to the blue bobby boys.
And so the moonshiner
was now a moonlighter.
A moonlit runner
tanked-up on liquor.

On whose arm
does the lady go?
He is a pimp
from Pimblico.

Who is his lady
that many-men know?
She's a prostitute
from Pimblico.

What are they doing
here in Soho?
Oh gosh, oh gosh,
you sure are slow !

Our gang saw bands galore.
Find the Coatham Hotel ballroom
was the Jazz Club on Sundays.
The spotlight, like the moon,
on the rockers cast its beam.
Across the road the sea tossed
as Fleetwood Mac, with Peter Green,
played the blues and 'Albatross'.

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