Soho Boy

Well, you've always got schoolbooks

You've always got toys

You never go hungry like

Some of the boys

But something is not quite right

It's not what it seems

Soho's best dressed boy

He doesn't feel clean

Father - no father, but

Uncles you've had

They all turned out nasty

They all turned out bad

They were all pimps

And they were all hoods

So Soho's best dressed boy

Doesn't feel good

They sent you away

To a school for the Toffs

Where you learned to speak proper

And you learned to speak posh

Your mother she cried

Your mother felt sad

So Soho's best dressed boy

He's feeling bad

Took you a long time to find out the truth

Your mother a whore all through your youth

Your mother she died

A long time ago

The ways of the world

Well, now you do know

You stand by her gravestone

You say it out loud

She was a prostitute

And you feel proud