Good Old Days

Won't you meet me down

Down by Barrack Street

Where the sailors all come in to greet their families

I heard an auld one speak of the emergency

Hiding coal under a baby in it's pram

That's where my mother's mother was raised on bread and butter

Mapping those streets in the creases of her palm

Fathers converged on the bars and prepared

For the coming of the glimmer man

We won't shed no tears for the good old days

But for talks sake we can mourn them in a song

Truth be told, there what made up so I say God bless you

And bless all who belong to thee

Won't you meet me down by the pork factory houses

Where the bicycles are all traveling in unison

Where the latch is forever left on every door

Keep your eyes peeled for the peelers in the dark

We had love not money

And to those that stung me

I would greet them all with the tipping of my cap

Let's escape and go to a picture show in the picture house

Where the navies and the banshees roam

We won't shed no tears for the good old days

But for talks sake we can mourn them in a song

Truth be told, there what made up so I say God bless you

And bless all who belong to thee