On the night that Maxton died, I fell over,
The Clyde was full of old tyres,
The wind nearly pulled my breeches off,
And Ann Kelly, she kissed my mouth,
Fellow hoodlums and engineers,
The Union's south and we're all here,
I'm going up Buchanan Street,
With a box of fireworks and two bottles of Tizer.
On the last train from St Enochs,
I saw the graveyard, it looked like our old street,
People were cheering all the way from Hampden,
With macaroons and scarves and rattles.
Fellow hoodlums and engineers,
The Union's south and we're all here,
I'm going up Buchanan Street,
With a box of fireworks and two bottles of Tizer.
Billy's a butcher now, always has been,
And he picks his teeth with old rusty meat hooks,
And he sends his beef with the bike boys,
Monday to Saturday, Partick to Cowcaddens.
Fellow hoodlums and engineers,
The Union's south and we're all here,
I'm going up Buchanan Street,
With a box of fireworks and two bottles of Tizer.
Words and Music - Ricky Ross