69
Flying through the night in a beat up wagonA mike stand up my jacksyGive me a beer and I'll stand on a chairAnd slip into something sexyBlack Cat Woolwich, The Tiger's HeadThe Cafe des Artistes, The Revolution and the Bag O'Nails
I'll see you down the Speak'Your Ma said you slept real good in your food lastnigthBut you couldn't hold it downAnd you broke up a damn good fightLigging at the Old Marquee, spinning Jack a lineEven he knew better than me, back in sixty nine
Sixty nine, sixty nineSixty nine, sixty nine
On the road to ParadisoBack of your head, got to pay some duesRugged looked down as the Thames swallowedHis life at the Boathouse, KewHot girls, no AC, cheap TV, sleep on the floorHallelujah what's a roadie, hush my baby sleep nomore