there’s a yellow star
hung over a Glasgow sky
in a sandstone doorway
I had the sweetest kiss
I’m here for days like these
and I’m walking down the middle of the Great Western Road
and I’m surfing on a tarmac wave
I’ve got fifty pounds in silver pennies
for singing in Buchanan Street all day
I’m here for days like these
I’m here for days like these
there was Mary, Madge and me
smoking black, shooting the breeze
and as far as I can see
I was here for days like these
now I’m sitting on the last bus home
and Brian’s got a thing for the conductress
stop singing that bloody Rangers song
come here and shut your Proddy mouth and kiss us
I’m here for days like these
I’m here for days like these