The kids from the city of nowhere
The bible code sundays
See the sun set on the city of London
Down through the bush and out to the west
Out past the Westway and the huddled houses
Down into greenford and the boys on the bench
Down come the Hayes Bhoys from an Old Firm triumph
Gonna drink West London dry tonight
Up then to harrow on a Monday evening
To hook up with you cos everything's been just right
Since the days down in Kilburn and the Cricklewood Broadway
Raising holy hell with The Sunshine Boys
Putting all the tables and chairs through the windows
Smashing all the glasses just like they were toys
In come the boys "put some dough in the tin lads"
"No problem son, it's all for the cause"
And who forget the jukebox in Biddys
Blasting out war into the streets of Kilburn
Cos we are the kids from the city of nowhere
The forgotten children of the irish race
Cos we built the roads and the docks and the railways
Aint nothing but pride on this West London Irish face
Taking on the market boys down the Brooke Green
Coming home bruised in the back of your car
On up to The George in the Hammersmith Broadway
Racing through the door trying to get to the bar
James Connolly Folk playing up in the corner
Down jumps Farrell on top of Thatcher's man
seven shades of shite and the whole place laughing
That stupid punk just picked on the wrong man
Cos we are the kids from the city of nowhere
The forgotten children of the Irish race
Cos we built the roads and the docks and the railways
Aint nothing but pride on this West London Irish face
Up in high rise on the streets of Acton
Some bastards about to get the fright of their life
cos they've been pushing round our women and children
The hurley sticks are coming just to make this right
cos these were the days of our forefathers
When the Irish ran the bars and the roads and the sites
we are the children of these navvy grafters
We fought our way through for ourselves and our rights
Cos we are the kids from the city of nowhere
The forgotten children of the irish race
Cos we built the roads and the docks and the railways
Aint nothing but pride on this West London Irish face
We built this city
Down through the bush and out to the west
Out past the Westway and the huddled houses
Down into greenford and the boys on the bench
Down come the Hayes Bhoys from an Old Firm triumph
Gonna drink West London dry tonight
Up then to harrow on a Monday evening
To hook up with you cos everything's been just right
Since the days down in Kilburn and the Cricklewood Broadway
Raising holy hell with The Sunshine Boys
Putting all the tables and chairs through the windows
Smashing all the glasses just like they were toys
In come the boys "put some dough in the tin lads"
"No problem son, it's all for the cause"
And who forget the jukebox in Biddys
Blasting out war into the streets of Kilburn
Cos we are the kids from the city of nowhere
The forgotten children of the irish race
Cos we built the roads and the docks and the railways
Aint nothing but pride on this West London Irish face
Taking on the market boys down the Brooke Green
Coming home bruised in the back of your car
On up to The George in the Hammersmith Broadway
Racing through the door trying to get to the bar
James Connolly Folk playing up in the corner
Down jumps Farrell on top of Thatcher's man
seven shades of shite and the whole place laughing
That stupid punk just picked on the wrong man
Cos we are the kids from the city of nowhere
The forgotten children of the Irish race
Cos we built the roads and the docks and the railways
Aint nothing but pride on this West London Irish face
Up in high rise on the streets of Acton
Some bastards about to get the fright of their life
cos they've been pushing round our women and children
The hurley sticks are coming just to make this right
cos these were the days of our forefathers
When the Irish ran the bars and the roads and the sites
we are the children of these navvy grafters
We fought our way through for ourselves and our rights
Cos we are the kids from the city of nowhere
The forgotten children of the irish race
Cos we built the roads and the docks and the railways
Aint nothing but pride on this West London Irish face
We built this city
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