The Night the Pugilist Learned How to Dance

In the streets around here There was nobody tougher than me I was quick with me fists and fast with me footwork as you can plainly see But while fighting was useful for getting your way among the toughs of the town Where you could hold sway There had to be something that was better than this I was 15 years old and I'd never been kissed Well of course she'd ignore me, her friends would all sneer At me bloody nose dripping and me cauliflower ear For it's hard to convince in a romantic pose, with a lovely black eye and a broken nose Where a girl is attracted to skills more refined than the pugilist's art, and so I inclined To take meself serious as a modern romancer And I secretly learnt all the moves of a dancer Ye swing to the left, ye swing to the right Keep your eyes on your partner, more or less like a fight Ye just follow the rhythm, and ye keep to the beat The important thing's never to look at your feet Then a miracle happens, your mind's in a trance Though the strategy's subtle, retreat and advance It's all about attitude, all in your stance Attention to detail, leaving nothing to chance Which explains how the pugilist finally learned how to dance Well, I'd waltz with a broomstick and if I was caught I'd pretend I was sweeping or practising sport But I really had eyes for your mother, ye see Wanting her to acknowledge this new version of me But now everyone's watching, expecting I'll fail But there's fire in me belly, there's wind in me sails I knew it was risky and I was taking a chance I couldn't retreat now, I had to advance So I swing to the left, I swing to the right Keep me eyes on me partner, like I would in a fight I just keep to the rhythm and follow the beat The important thing's never to look at your feet But a miracle's happened, and your mind's in a trance They're all laughing and cheering and looking askance On the night that the pugilist finally learned how to dance It's a three-minute round and you're back in your corner You're licking your wounds, just like little Jack Horner Don't let your guard down, try a jab with your right Or you're losing on points by the end of the night Then a miracle happens, and everyone's screaming You're pinching yourself, just in case you're still dreaming You've taken the initiative, you've taken your chance It's the night when this pugilist finally learned how to dance In a bout where the strategist's bridges were burned Where it seemed that his fortune had suddenly turned 'Twas the night that this scrapper was suddenly dapper And this poor fellow's heart was still going like the clappers The night that the pugilist finally learned how to dance