I'm a maker of ballads right pretty
I write them right here in the street
You can buy them all over the city
yours for a penny a sheet
I'm a word pecker out of the printers
out of the dens of Gin Lane
I'll write up a scene on a counter
-confessions and sins in the main, boys
confessions and sins in the main

Then you'll find me in Madame Geneva's
keeping the demons at bay
There's nothing like gin for drowning them in
but they'll always be back on a hanging day

They come rattling over the cobbles
they sit on their coffins of black
Some are struck dumb, some gabble
top-heavy on brandy or sack
The pews are all full of fine fellows
and the hawker has set up her shop
As they's turning them off at the gallow
she'll be selling right under the drop, boys
selling right under the droop

Then you'll find me in Madame Geneva's
keeping the demons at bay
There's nothing like gin for drowing them in
but they'll always be back on a hanging day

Roll out here mister
If you need a little rest
Lay me down in Marbletown
A bone yard is the best

There was a bad bull on the railroad
Tried to pull me off this train
Lay me down in Marbletown
'Til the coast is clear again

I can hear them a-hollerin'
'We got a man down here
We got a man down'

I'm gonna flip me a cannonball
That won't stop for anyone
Lay me down in Marbletown
Wait 'til morning comes

I'm gonna roll out here in the tombstones
Wait here on my train
Lay me down in Marbletown
I hope that it don't rain

And I can still hear them hollerin'
'We got a man down here
We got a man down'

Roll out here mister
If you need a little rest
Lay me down in Marbletown
A bone yard is the best

So there he was then, Penzance to play
Christmas Eve in a nowhere band
Now early morning Christmas Day
He’s hitching home to Geordieland

Last night the snow came, just my luck
And who the hell do you think you are
Climbing up into that truck
With your old bag and your guitar

And you, you would-be vagabond
No-one invited you, you know
Matchstick man, up in the dawn
You’ve got five hundred miles to go

The driver now must drop off his load
The snow still laying thick on the ground
Leaves him on a high crossroads
Where he can see for miles around

The sun is shining, sky is blue
And everything is white and bare
Not a car comes into view
There’s nothing moving anywhere

And you, you would-be vagabond
No-one invited you, you know
Matchstick man, you speck upon
These vast and silent plains of snow

Me and my band put the music on to dance
Don't know the time of the day
Oh, yeah, we'd be a pain in the neck
If we couldn't get down and -- twist
'Cos it depends upon a [greater surround?]
Everything's going to get [sound?]
Me and my band are putting it down, putting it down in the ground

Taking it easy I can play it
Play it till I'm blue in the face
Just goes to show you need a [bass and a skin?]
If you want to get a play
I really believe, you can be -- come on -- funky cooking, cooking I mean
Me and my band are putting it down, putting it down in the ground

Me and my band put the music on to dance
Don't know the time of the day.
Oh, yeah, we'd be a pain in the neck
If we couldn't get down and -- play
'Cos it depends upon the [greatest surround?]
Everything going to get a bunk
Me and my band are putting it down
putting it down in the ground

Yearning, we were yearning
Green light blinding on the rail
Burning, we were burning
And the line unwinding to the Holy Grail
To the future gleaming on a blue horizon
And a golden girl on golden sand
Dreaming, fantasizing
In another world from Metroland

I've danced in rain and I've been Django
And I've got laid
I've been a rolling stone
I've been Verlaine
And I've been Rimbaud
Not afraid to walk alone
And now I take my midnight ramble
Do I fold or play what's in my hand
What's at stake and what's the gamble
Do I stay in Metroland

Dreams, yesterday's laughter
Ghosts and lovers come back to play
But dreams have a morning after
And run for cover
In the light of day
I got something real, worth holding on to
I can belong to and understand
I've made my deal
I will go on to
Make my peace with Metroland

A room on the top floor
And the chest all but knackered
Two fingers not working
And the back’s shot to hell
It’s a lifetime of digging trenches
In the cold and wet weather
And for laying half the roadway
In England as well

You’d finish in the one place
It was straight to the next one
And you never could settle
And you were always alone
Just a drifter in limbo
I was best off away, son
Just one of the thousands
Who could never go home

That’s your mighty man, son
Your mighty man

Well, the boat and the train ride
In a misty November
We had the worst of the lodgings
And we hated the subs
Ma’s face on the leaving
I will always remember
And we wouldn’t get paid
Until they had closed up their pubs

And I could stand up on horseback
Was the man for the singing
Put my hand up for boxing
At the fairground on the heath
I could play my accordion
And charm all of the women
And dance round the taproom
With a chair in my teeth

That’s your mighty man, son
Your mighty man
That’s your mighty man, son
Your mighty man

Miss you blues, baby, miss you blues
Miss you blues, baby, miss you blues
You never used to look behind you, that isn't what you'd do
Didn't leave a thing behind you but the miss you blues

Who's gonna take your place, fill your shoes?
Who's gonna take your place, fill your shoes?
You never used to look behind you, that isn't what you'd do
Didn't leave a thing behind you but the miss you blues

Miss you blues, baby, miss you blues
Miss you blues, baby miss you blues
You never used to look behind you, that isn't what you'd do
Didn't leave a thing behind you but the miss you blues

Walk alone down the avenue
Walk alone down the avenue
You never used to look behind you, that isn't what you'd do
Didn't leave a thing behind you but the miss you blues

Miss you blues, baby, miss you blues
Miss you blues, baby, miss you blues
You never used to look behind you, that isn't what you'd do
Didn't leave a thing behind you but the miss you blues

One day Mr Solomons said
There was a little black cloud over your head
Anyway you’ve received a threat
Or so he understands
I’m a country lad but I see it too
How much it’s got to you
And now you’re slipping down
Into the shadowlands

My life’s the fighting game
I keep my cool, I stay the same
We never mind how bad it is
In fact we like all your
Showbiz shenanigans
And Jack wants to help you out
Is what it’s all about
With Mr Solomons

We like the flashbulbs, pop, pop, pop
All the razzamatazz
We like the big nights, the West End lights
And all of that jazz

And you can bet
Jack is never going back
To Frying Pan Alle
y You can bet Jack is never going back
To Frying Pan Alley

He signed me as a prospect, see
Then something let go in my knee
But I’m no clapped out punchateer
Like some of the other ones
Promoting’s all about the gate
Information’s worth its weight
I’m the eyes and ears and it’s great
With Mr Solomons

Daytimes I’ll make the rounds
In every caff and every pub In this part of town
There’s a mug or a pug
And always someone blathering
It’s gossip calypso all day long
Who’s the money going on
Who’s been training wrong
Got hurt or struggling

Well I might have a couple with a cornerman
The one with the sponge and bucket
I’ve maybe got a bottle for a club doorman
Tickets for a waitress in my pocket

She said ‘It’s me or the ring, Jack’ years ago
So he swapped his gloves for Savile Row
Jack’s no pushover though
He likes that story told
Behind the pinstripe buttonhole
Behind the yellow rose
Beats a heart of gold

Now he’s got me something new
Which is to look out for you
I said, ‘I’d be happy to, Mr Solomons’
One day Mr Solomons said
‘London, son, we have got some hard pavements’
There’s more to the man than the motto read
On the wall above his head
‘Winners win, losers make their own arrangements’

You can bet Jack is never going back
To Frying Pan Alley
Yeah, you can bet Jack is never going back
To Frying Pan Alley
You can bet Jack is never going back
To Frying Pan Alley
Yeah, you can bet Jack is never going back
To Frying Pan Alley

The chisels are calling
It's time to make sawdust
Steely reminders of things left to do
Monteleone, a mandolin's waiting for you

My finger planes working
Gentle persuasion
I bend to the wood and I coax it to sing
Monteleone, your new one and only will ring
Monteleone, your new one and only will ring

The rain on the window, the snow on the gravel
the seasons go by to the songs in the wood
Too quick or too careless it all could unravel
It so easily could

The chisels are calling
It’s back for an encore
Back to the shavings that cover the floor
Monteleone, they’re calling for more
Monteleone, they’re calling for more

I never got the elbow
Just telling you
Before you go
Only telling you
Just so you know

I never got the elbow
I slung it in
Had it up to here
I just pulled the pin
Went and had a beer

I used to love a bit of folding
Just for getting by
A wad of cash
Now that’s out of date
And so am I
As pie and mash

S’cuse me, s’cuse me
Have you got my roll?
My roll? My bacon roll?

The time they took us bowling
What was that about?
I thought what a joke
I just went out
And had a smoke

Then the white water rafting
Just some know-it-all
With the new regime
There to show us all
How to build a team

He says what do you think we’re doing?
I said don’t ask me
I’ve no idea
They all laughed at that
That was pretty funny actually

S’cuse me, s’cuse me
Have you got my roll?
My roll? My bacon roll?
Have you got my roll?
My roll? My bacon roll?

I could order you a toastie
Just like that one there
Or the same in plain white bread
When you’re dealing with a toastie
What do you prefer
Brown or red?

I never got the elbow
Just telling you
Before you go
Only telling you
Just so you know

My car’s in for a brake job
Be ready in a while
Something about the waitress
Made me think about your smile
I tip her a ten spot
And I try to read her name
I’m just an old long hauler
A grinder at the game

Heaven knows the highways
Since we’ve been apart
But my heart don’t feel like leaving
Or you won’t leave my heart
Now and then I might take
A little something for pain
But there’s nothing much for heartache
And my heart has never changed
My heart has never changed

Now there’s no more rough and tumble
Down Highway 199
Nothing lasts forever
I just miss it sometimes

She comes to pour more coffee
But it’s time to see more world
I pick up my check and keys
And go and pay the girl
My mind’s in Hell’s Half Acre
And the rooms along Exchange
And the scenes are always shifting
But my heart has never changed
My heart has never changed