***

Here at the edge of the harbour I dance
Drinking the cold vitaminic fresh air
Somebody's coming and going past
Bearing his promise of beeing there
People are crying of pleasure and joy
Biting their tongues incredibly sweet
And somebody's crushing his own bones
Made of cinnamon lactose and brown sugar
Yeah I'm fine thanks
Having a good time in this old part of the town
Having a good time in this old part of the town

Crowds of people sing and dance past the midnight
Seeing a flash not mistaken for flesh
Fireworks are getting too high in the end
And then and then lights're dying out to die
Somebody's rolling a die
And seeing he won he's gonna cry
No I don't really care
Having a good time in this old part of the town
Having a good time in this old part of the town

Everybody's singing as everybody's stomping
Everybody's dancing and marching
Everybody's drinking the same drink the same drink
Brewed at the same brewery

Yeah I'm fine with that
Having my good time
Having my good time.