I'm going on the circuit, I'm doing all the clubs
  And I really need a song boys to stir those workers up
  And get their wives to sing it with me just like in the pubs
  When I worked the good old pubs in Stepney
    Oh could you knock a line or two together for a friend
  Sentimental tear inducing with a happy end
  And we need a tune to open our season at Southend
  Can you help us
    It's hard to write a song with bitter fingers
  So much to prove, so few to tell you why
  Those old die-hards in Denmark Street start laughing
  At the keyboard player's hollow haunted eyes
  It seems to me a change is really needed
  I'm sick of tra-la-las and la-de-das
  No more long days hacking hunks of garbage
  Bitter fingers never swung on swinging stars, swinging stars
    I like the warm blue flame, the hazy heat it brings
  It loosens up the muscles and forces you to sing
  You know it's just another hit and run from the tin pan alley twins
    And there's a chance that one day you might write a standard lads
  So churn them out quick and fast and we'll still pat your backs
  'Cause we need what we can get to launch another dozen acts
  Are you working