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Fellow Hoodlums

On the night, Maxton died

I fell over Clyde was full of old tyres

The wind nearly pulled my breeches off

Ann Kelly, she kissed my mouthFellow hoodlums and engineers

The Union south, we're all here

I'm going up Buchanan Street

With a box of fireworks and two bottles of TizerThe last train from St. Enoch

I saw the graveyard, it looked like our old street

People were cheering all the way from Hampden

With macaroons and scarves and rattlesFellow hoodlums and engineers

The Union south, we're all here

I'm going up Buchanan Street

With a box of fireworks and two bottles of TizerBilly's a butcher now always has been

And he picks his teeth with old rusty meat hooks

And he sends his beef with the bike boys

Monday to Saturday, Patrick to CowcaddensFellow hoodlums and engineers

The Union south, we're all here

I'm going up Buchanan Street

With a box of fireworks and two bottles of TizerI'm going up Buchanan Street

With a box of fireworks

And two bottles of Tizer

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