The Days Of Pearly Spencer

Marc Almond

A tenement, a dirty street

Walked and worn by shoeless feet

Inside it's long and so complete

Watched by a shivering sun

Old eyes in a small child's face

Watching as the shadows race

Through walls and cracks and leave no trace

And daylight's brightness shuns



The days of Pearly Spencer

The race is almost run



Nose pressed hard on frosted glass

Gazing as the swollen mass

On concrete fields where grows no grass

Stumbles blindly on

Iron trees smother the air

But withering they stand and stare

Through eyes that neither know nor care

Where the grass is gone



The days of Pearly Spencer

The race is almost run



Pearly where's your milk white skin

What's that stubble on your chin

It's buried in the rot gut gin

You played and lost not won

You played a house that can't be beat

Now look your head's bowed in defeat

You walked too far along the street

Where only rats can run



The days of Pearly Spencer

The race is almost run

The days of Pearly Spencer

The race is almost run

The race is almost run



A tenement, a dirty street

Remember worn and shoeless feet

Remember how you stood to beat

The way your life had gone

So Pearly don't you shed more tears

For those best forgotten years

Those tenements are memories

Of where you've risen from



The days of Pearly Spencer

The race is almost won