I´m going on the circuit, I´m doing all the clubs And I really need a song boys to stir those workers up
And get their wives to sing it with me just like in the pubs When I worked the good old pubs in Stepney
Oh could you knock a line or two together for a friend Sentimental tear inducing with a happy end And we need a tune to open our season at Southend Can you help us
It´s hard to write a song with bitter fingers So much to prove, so few to tell you why Those old die-hards in Denmark Street start laughing At the keyboard player´s hollow haunted eyes It seems to me a change in rhythm is needed I´m sick of tra-la-las and la-de-das No more long days hacking hunks of garbage
Bitter fingers never swung on swinging stars, swinging stars
I like the warm blue flame, the hazy heat it brings It loosens up the muscles and forces you to sing You know it´s just another hit and run from the tin pan alley twins
And there´s a chance that one day you might write a standard lads So churn them out quick and fast and we´ll still pat your backs `Cause we need what we can get to launch another dozen acts Are you working