The grimy gaslit streets which lead to many sheltered walks
Amaze me as they once amazed my aunts
The softly hissing streetcars in their ancient ritual dance
Remind me of our secret, whispered talks

The ghastly steaming grist which Joe produces at the Mile
Reminds me of my uncle's erstwhile trade
The slowly rising mountains of the bills which must be paid
Contort my features to a mirthless smile

I smiled aloud remembering my uncle's fearsome end
A collier by dark disaster dogged
He died down in the "Jolly Mile", his throat completely clogged
With whatsitsname, which clean goes round the bend

I bent around the cleaner's dray, and supped the murky brew
Which Joe has sold from chipped old china pots
I liked the taste and begged for lots and lots and lots and lots
Not knowing it would scour my throat out too

I remember, I remember the houses where I dwell
My relatives recall them too, no doubt
I visit them both often, I'm more often in than out
Despite my garret's rather funny smell

The smell which some say emanates from consciousness of sin
Reminds me of the ebbing of my years
The dawning of the daylight brings the drowning of my fears
In glorious gin