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 in 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 city hall,
the castle and the keep
The moon shines down upon it all,
the legless and asleep.
And it's cold on a tollgate,
with the wagons creeping through
Cold on a tollgate,
God knows what I could do with you.
And it's what it is -- it's what it is now.
The garrison sleeps and the citadel with the ghosts and the ancient stones
High up on the parapet, a Scottish piper stands alone
And high on the wind, the highland drums begin to roll
And something from the past just comes and stares into my soul.
And it's cold on a tollgate,
with the Caledonian blue
Cold on a tollgate,
God knows what I could do with you.
And it's what it is -- it's what it is now
What it is -- it's what it is now.
Instrumental
There's a chink of light, there's a burning wick
There's a lantern in the tower
Wee Willie Winkie with a candlestick,
still writing songs in the wee wee hours.
On Charlotte Street I take a walking stick from my hotel
The ghost of Dirty Dick is still in search of Little Nell.
And it's what it is -- it's what it is now
Oh, it's what it is -- what it is now.
Instrumental