Text:
Babyshambles Down In Albion

Sit right down if you're a friend You know there ain't too many left of them You said, ?I want love, I want it all? You look better now than last time

I heard it said You had come back from the dead And you were playing so fine Scooping up the soul of the wine Courage, my boy The way you looked them

They would if they could, but they can't So if they talk like they could Are you going to heed a word they say All I'm trying to say was I'm in love

Down in Albion Ah, they're black and blue But we don't talk about that Are you from 'round here? How do you do? I'd like to talk about that Talk

I'll tell you a story but you won't listen It's about a nightmare steeped in tradition It's the story of a coked-up pansy Who spends his nights in flights

and rough It's hard, Pentonville rough Now, in Pentonville there's all type of nation Russian, Columbian and Jamaican Latvian, Croatian and a Polish man Indian, Chinaman down

far away down Skip... fame on the run Don't look back into the motherfucking sun, no Oh well you know that that's the end And that's the end so far away down

But it's a cruel, cruel world a cruel, cruel world. My pins are none too strong, Katie Oh hurry up Mrs. Brown I can feel 'em coming down & it won't take

: It's all and the same It's all and the same, oh So what's the use between death and glory? I can't tell between death and glory Happy endings, no,