That’s some pointed shoe,
Suede and shaded blue,
That’s some black leg sprayed on drainpipe-tight,
That’s some jacket to thigh,
That’s some bootlace tie,
And Kid Canute is out to rock this town tonight.
They all say no, those times are gone now,
They all say no, it’s a brand new day,
They all say no, time marches on now,
Oh Kid Canute you can’t keep change’s waves at bay.
What his dad said yesterday,
Now his children say,
Dressed that way, I wouldn’t be seen dead,
But it’s just the clothes he’s worn,
For thirty years or more,
He’s fifty-two, but it’s still fifty-six in his head.
There was a time he ran,
In a greased up gang,
And on the corner hang as those
black and white days roll by,
But there always came a day,
They washed that grease away,
But Kid Canute he always kept that quiff piled high.
Now there’s no swirling frocks,
No white ankle socks,
And all the pony tails they hang down on men,
But as he staggers home,
With one defiant comb,
He sweeps his hair back and he lives those times again.
Track on the albums: