What It Is
The drinking dens are spilling outThere's staggering in the squareThere's lads and lasses falling aboutAnd a crackling in the airDown around the dungeon doorsThe shelters and the queuesEverybody's looking forSomebody's arms to fall into
That's what it isIt's what it is now
There's frost on the graves and the monumentsBut the taverns are warm in townPeople curse the governmentAnd shovel hot food downLights are out in the city hallThe castle and the keepThe moon shines down upon it allThe legless and asleep
And it's cold on the tollgateWith the wagons creeping throughCold on the tollgateGod knows what I could do with you
That's what it isIt's what it is now
The garrison sleeps in the citadelWith the ghosts and the ancient stonesHigh on the parapetA Scottish piper stands aloneAnd high on the windThe highland drums begin to rollAnd something from the past just comesAnd stares into my soul
And it's cold on the tollgatewith the Caledonian bluesCold on the tollgateGod knows what I could do with you
That's what it isIt's what it is nowWhat it isIt's what it is now
There's a chink of light, there's a burning wickThere's a lantern in the towerWee Willie Winkie with a candlestickStill writing songs in the wee wee hoursOn Charlotte Street I takeA walking stick for my hotelThe ghost of Dirty DickIs still in search of Little Nell
That's what it isIt's what it is nowIt's what it isWhat it is now…