Lyrics:

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