The drinking dens are spilling out
There’s staggering in the square
There’s lads and lasses falling about
And a crackling in the air
Down around the dungeon doors
The shelters and the queues
Everybody’s looking for
Somebody’s arms to fall into
And it’s what it is
It’s what it is now
There’s frost on the graves and the monuments
But the taverns are warm in town
People Curse the government
And shovel hot food down
The lights are out in the city hall
The castle and the keep
The moon shines down upon it all
The legless and asleep
And it’s cold on the toll gate
With the wagons creeping through
Cold on the toll gate
God knows what I could do with you
And it’s what it is
It’s what it is now
The garrison sleeps in the citadel
With the ghosts and the ancient stones
High up on the parapet
A Scottish piper stands alone