The Railway Bridge
This is the story of Billy McDaid, who’s father kicked him out his home,He left with just a black bin bag, and off to London he did roam.Billy couldn’t get a job, he’d only just left school,He hung around with all his pals thinking he was cool. Mr McDaid was on benefits, four kids and his wife had a part time job,But after the government paid his dues, he was left with thirty “bob”It was hard at this time at home, two sisters, his brother had polio,And with Billy not contributing much, he was told he had to go. Billy wasn’t laughing now, he had a reality check,He stormed out the house screaming at all, oh really what the heck!Running around his local pals, borrowing money he had to attain,He got enough for his lunch and a ticket for the train. So Billy boarded a diesel train, it went from central station,and sat down with an older man and had a conversation.He offered Billy a sandwich, on the train he had a luncheon,It wasn’t long, time had flown and the train stopped here at London. It was a long day, he had nowhere to stay, he could here his fathers voice,In among the hustle and bustle of the taxis and buses noise.He walked along the riverside with his bag and in the dark,He crossed the Chelsea Bridge Road and went to Battersea Park. He sat down under a tree and put on his extra clothing,His first night in London and already he was loathing.Too much broken sleep that night, so damp and feeling cold,Are you okay young man a gentleman asked as he then consoled. Billy got up, packed his things, no more of this I can take,He made his way across the lawn and sat at the boating lake.I couldn’t get a job, I miss my mum, my dad gave me no choice,There’s no way I can contact them, I wish I could hear their voice. I walked and walked for ages, to a railway bridge on Old York RoadAnd folk going up and down the station stairs, they constantly overflowed.I sat on my bag, took out my blanket then put it around my knees,I was fighting desperation, begging, as I didn’t want to freeze. I made quite a lot of money, in fact I did not bad,and what looked like a potless student, bought me the best sandwich I ever had.But as I walk along the streets, I am feeling all alone,I come across a bunch of folk in a corner, sipping methadone. These folk all look older, they could hardly mobilize,All skinny nervy folk and all had faraway eyes.I looked at them and them at me, I looked down upon the snow,They said to me follow us and we’ll show you were to go. I followed them to the “arches” they all lay down on their rugs,And when I sat beside them, someone offered me easy drugs.How much money do you have? don’t lie and tell the truth,I was scared, I better tell or he will end my youth. I made forty pound for sitting around and begging at the station,And now I wish I wasn’t here in this precarious situation.He gave me a bag, you’ll buy from me, next week you’ll meet my driver,Then took all my money and handed back a fiver. I was shocked but I was safe as he went along his way,There must be something better than this, these folk he did betray.I opened the bag of powder, the folk gathered around when they got a whiff,They showed me what to do with it and through the fiver rolled we sniffed. Every one was happy and one became my honey,I was good at begging but what if I don’t get the money.Everything was good again, when the driver came I met,Handed him the money and no one was upset. I started spending more on drugs, and kept some for myself,Selling it to my fellow homeless folk, and made a bit of wealth.They all looked up to me now, I have them in the bag,And when it took my fancy, I spend time with the slag. My dad he had morals, he’d disown me for what I do,I make more money than him, at each and every Rendezvous.I own a place in Belgravia, not far from Hyde Park corner.And I lord it up all through the week, for today I’ve never been warmer. I want to repay my pals, I think of them intently,I’m going to drive up north today and bring them back in my Bentley.We will work together a new gang in London town,And we’ll quaff it up in Chelsea our headquarters in “The Crown” So five of us hire some thugs from in and around the city,And in the Crown we gather around, you could say we’re a committee.We’ve got the money, got the girls and well we’re sitting pretty,We don’t have to buy no drinks, the Crown is our big kitty. Now some other gangs put their feelers out, to see what we’re about,Some from nearby Lambeth and Tooting want to take us out.But we started here with nothing in Wandsworth Town you see,And now we’re up in Chelsea, they all want a piece of me. If my dad seen me now, he wouldn’t envy my place,All the riches that I have, as much as Princess Grace.We will sort the gangs out, we’ll be forever rich,And who would have thought wee Billy McDaid started life under the railway bridge. Bernie Logue.