The old park the o-o- old park night’s soft light an occasional fight

‘cross the road in the bar of His Majesty’s

To the tune of the Scotland yard serial

Mute wharf you si-ilent wharf I dwarfed by exotic ships dwarfed

And the two shilling ride for the ferry trip

         

And the thrill of just touching the ship

Childhood memories come racing back

                           

How we played by the wagons at the railway track

      

And yet never entertained a thought of dying

Brass bands and Scots band brigade Firemen all ablaze in their braid

         

And the feast of Our Lady of Fatima

And the once a year blessing of the fleet

Childhood memories come racing back

                       

Drunks in cold wagons by the railway track

                      

As I look to the sea Scots band and the fife

        

And I contemplate taking my life.