On the night that Maxton died I fell over The clyde was full of old tyres The wind nearly pulled my Breeches off And ann kelly She kissed my mouth
Fellow hoodlums and Engineers The union`s south And we`re all here I`m going up buchanan street With a box of fireworks And two bottles of Tizer
On the last train from st. enochs I saw the graveyard It looked like our old street People were cheering All the way from hampden With macaroons and And scarves and rattles
Chorus
Billy`s a butcher now Always has been And he picks his teeth With old rusty meat hooks And he sends his beef with the bike boys Monday to saturday Partick to cowcaddens
Version imprimable
