It was 1962 I was two years out of school When I got on board a boat That was bound for Liverpool The day I went away I remember it so well Said goodbye to the North Wall And bid a fond farewell
When I got down to the smoke It was 1963 I got a job doing meals on wheels Round NW3 I was terrorising grannies For ten lousy bob a week I was smashed and blacked And drunk and yawning in NW3
In the filth and piss they lived in They would sometimes hum an air Or talk in tongues of madness Keeping time upon a chair And for their wrists a numbered tab In Westminster morgue On a cold hard slab When I was still a young man In NW3
Now I'm spent of love and rage And I'm going home again Never did nobody wrong Never earned a decent wage So thanks for sweet fuck all Once more look at the North Wall Say goodbye to all of that And bid a fond farewell
At the top of the Pentonville Road I watched the sun setting The town spread out before me Looked beautiful to me Away from all the sighing The suffering and the dying I dreamed of the future Of the young and the free
But the years they went by quickly Now I swear I won't return here Where each day just bring me closer To the final misery My kids will never scrape shit round here I won't die crying in a pint of beer Or eat their stinking meals on wheels In NW3