The Pogues

(Shane MacGowan)

In the rosy parks of England

We'll sit and have a drink

Of VP wine and cider 'till we can hardly think

And we'll go where the spirits take us

To heaven or to hell

And kick up bloody murder in the town we love so well



Going transmetropolitan, Yip-ay-aye

From the dear old streets of Kings Cross

To the doors of the ICA

Going transmetropolitan, Yip-ay-aye

We'll drink the rat's piss, kick the shite

And I'm not going home tonight, Yip-ay-aye



From Brixton's lovely boulevards

To Hammersmith's sightly shores

We'll scare the Camden Palace poofs

And worry all the whores

There's lechers up in Whitehall

And queers in the GLC

And when we've done those bastards in

We'll storm the BBC



Going transmetropolitan, Yip-ay-aye

From Surrey Docks to Somers Town

With a KMRIA

Going transmetropolitan, Yip-ay-aye

We'll drink the rat's piss, kick the shite

And I'm not going home tonight, Yip-ay-aye



From a five-bob bet in William Hills

To a Soho sex-shop dream

From a fried egg in Valtaro's

To a Tottenham Court Road ice cream

We'll spew and lurch, get nicked and fixed

On the way we'll kill and maim

When you haven't got a penny, boys

It's all the bloody same



Going transmetropolitan, Yip-ay-aye

From Pentonville Road on a sunset eve

To the beauty that's Mill Lane

Going transmetropolitan, Yip-ay-aye

We'll drink the rat's piss, kick the shite

And I'm not going home tonight, Yip-ay-aye



This town has done us dirty

This town has bled us dry

We've been here for a long time

And we'll be here 'till we die

So we'll finish off the leavings-acap