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When I first came to London I was only sixteen |
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With a fiver in my pocket and my ole dancing bag |
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I went down to the dilly to check out the scene |
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But I soon ended up upon the old main drag |
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There the he-males and the she-males paraded in style |
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And the old man with the money would flash you a smile |
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In the dark of an alley you would work for a five |
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For a swift one off the wrist down on the old main drag |
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In the cold winter nights the old town it was chill |
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But there were boys in the cafes who'd give you cheap pills |
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If you didn't have the money you'd cajole and you'd beg |
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There was always lots of tuinol on the old main drag |
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One evening as I was lying down in Leicester Square |
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I was picked up by the coppers and kicked in the balls |
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Between the metal doors at Vine Street I was beaten and mauled |
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And they ruined my good looks for the old main drag |
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In the tube station the old ones who were on the way out |
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Would dribble and vomit and grovel and shout |
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And the coppers would come along and push them about |
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And I wished they could escape from the old main drag |
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And now I am lying here I've had too much booze |
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I've been spat on and shat on and raped and abused |
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I know that I am dying and I wish I could beg |
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For some money to take me from the old main drag |