Good Old Days

Won't you meet me down
Down by Barrack Street
Where the sailors all come in to greet their families
I heard an auld one speak of the emergency
Hiding coal under a baby in it's pram
That's where my mother's mother was raised on bread and butter
Mapping those streets in the creases of her palm
Fathers converged on the bars and prepared
For the coming of the glimmer man

We won't shed no tears for the good old days
But for talks sake we can mourn them in a song
Truth be told, there what made up so I say God bless you
And bless all who belong to thee

Won't you meet me down by the pork factory houses
Where the bicycles are all traveling in unison
Where the latch is forever left on every door
Keep your eyes peeled for the peelers in the dark
We had love not money
And to those that stung me
I would greet them all with the tipping of my cap
Let's escape and go to a picture show in the picture house
Where the navies and the banshees roam

We won't shed no tears for the good old days
But for talks sake we can mourn them in a song
Truth be told, there what made up so I say God bless you
And bless all who belong to thee