Here’s one of my favourite little songs I wrote in Brixton circa 1976 when I would dine at the Hot Pot restaurants. We played this a lot on the early days and Leopard would crack me up with his Chinese tippy-toes.
China town, I’ve never been to China Town
But I guess the rain is pretty much the same
As Picadilly Circus when you’re drained
All stood up I ate alone My coffee cup
Was painted like a Chinese gown
Made me think of China town through strands of minestrone guzzled down.
Not done yet I paced about
All the clubs I stood without dignity then vanished in the train
I suppose the tramps in China town wear similar clothes
To those that hang around the nearest underground
During showers that come pissing down
All washed up I drank too much to forget the yearning crotch
Then I spewed myself disgust up and the finish of the dust up
With the train conductor wearing stripes
And strands of minestrone in his moustache.