Sweet Gene Vincent - Ian Dury

Skinny white sailor, the chances were slender

The beauties were brief

Shall I mourn you decline with some thunderbird wine

And a black handkerchief?

I miss your sad Virginia whisper

I miss the voice that called my heart

Sweet Gene Vincent

Young and old and gone

Sweet Gene Vincent

Who, who, who slapped John?

White face, black shirt

White socks, black shoes

Black hair, white strat

Bled white, died black

Sweet gene Vincent

Let the blue cats roll tonight

At the sock hop ball in the union hall

Where the bop is their delight

Here come duck-tailed Danny dragging Uncanny Annie

She’s the one with the flying feet

You can break the peace daddy sickle grease

The beat is reet complete

And you jump back honey in the dungarees

Tight sweater and a pony tail

Will you guess her age when she comes back stage?

The hoodlums bite their nails

Black gloves, white frost

Black crepe, white lead

White sheet, black knight

Jet black, dead white

Sweet Gene Vincent

There’s one in every town

And the devil drives 'till the hearse arrives

And you lay that pistol down

Sweet Gene Vincent

There’s nowhere left to hide

With lazy skin and ash-tray eyes

A perforated pride

So farewell mademoiselle, Knickerbocker Hotel

Farewell to money owed

But when your leg still hurts and you need more shirts

You got to get back on the road