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Sweet Gene Vincent

de Ian Dury

Blue Gene baby

Skinny white sailor, the chances were slender, the beauties were brief
Shall I mourn your decline with some Thunderbird wine and a black handkerchief?
I miss your sad Virginia whisper, I miss the voice that called my heart

Sweet Gene Vincent
Young and old and gone
Sweet Gene Vincent
Who, who, who slapped John?

White face, black shirt
White socks, black shoes
Black hair, white strat
Bled white, died black

Sweet Gene Vincent
Let the Blue Caps roll tonight
At the Sock Hop Ball in the Union Hall
The bop is their delight

Here come duck-tail Danny dragging uncanny Annie, she's the one with the flying feet
You can break the peace, daddy sickle grease, the beat is reet complete
And the jump-back honey in the dungarees, tight sweater and a pony-tail
Will you guess her age when she comes back-stage, the hoodlums bite their nails

Black gloves, white frost
Black crêpe, white lead
White sheet, black knight
Jet black, dead white

Sweet Gene Vincent
There's one in every town
And the devil drives 'til the hearse arrives
And you lay that pistol down

Sweet Gene Vincent
With nowhere left to hide
With lazy skin and ashtray eyes
And perforated pride

So farewell, mademoiselle knicker-bocker hotel
Goodbye to money owed
But your leg still hurts and you need more shirts
You got to get back on the road

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