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The Flying Cloud

de Ewan MacColl

I found my love by the gasworks croft
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
Kissed my girl by the factory wall

Dirty old town, dirty old town

I heard a siren from the docks
Saw a train set the night on fire
Smelled the spring on the smoky wind

Dirty old town, dirty old town

Clouds are floating across the sky
Cats are prowling upon their beat
Spring's a girl in the streets at night

Dirty old town, dirty old town

I'm going to make a good sharp axe
Shining steel tempered in the fire
We'll chop you down like an old dead tree

Dirty old town, dirty old town

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