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The Days of Pearly Spencer
Marc Almond
Popularity ยท Moderate
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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You ready there, Neil?
ย
A tenement, a dirty street
Walked and warmed by shoeless feet
Inside, slumming so complete
Watched by a shimmering sun
Old eyes in a worn-out face
Watching as the shadows race
Through walls that crack and leave no trace
In daylight's brightness' shine
ย
The days of Pearly Spencer
Aha...
The race is almost run
Nose pressed hard on frosty glass
Gazing as the swarm amass
On concrete fields that close no grass
He stumbles blindly on
Iron trees smother the air
Withering, they stand and stare
Through eyes that neither know nor care
Where the grass has gone
ย
The days of Pearly Spencer
Aha...
The race is almost run
Pearly, where's your milk-white skin?
What's that stubble on your chin?
That's buried in the rot-gut gin
You play to last, not to win
You played a house that can't be beat
Now look, your head's bowed in defeat
You walked too far along the street
Where only rats can run
ย
The days of Pearly Spencer
Aha...
The race is almost run
ย
The days of Pearly Spencer
Aha...
Your race is almost run
Your race is almost run
ย