It's always better on holiday
That's why we only work when we need the money
Jacqueline was seventeen
And working on the desk of the poetry library

When she caught the eye behind Ivor's spectacle
They shared tea, ideas and passions
His eyes forgot the face they were peering from
When they peered upon her face

Well, you know that face as well as I do
Elastic youth and vitality, but when she returned the gaze
She returned the face that he was staring from
Gregor was down, kicked again and again by city Centre Neds

Look, I'm so drunk, I don't give a fuck
I don't mind if you kill me
At which point he claims angels dragged him
Into the back of a ford sierra
And dumped him on Sauchiehall street